Beyond The Mirror
by Unique .F
Summary: There was once an old myth that spoke about your shadow being the person in the mirror, your follower till the day you die. Someone prettier, kinder, lovelier, darker, blacker, madder...what secrets lie beyond the cold, glassy mirror? And who is the vampire stalking Hogwart's halls- and what does he have to do with Luna Lovegood? Please, just give it a chance and read!
1. Maybe If She'd Known

_Research Notes_

_Hermione Granger,_

_House Gryffindor_

_These notes are very secret- no one else can read of my suspicions. Harry and Ron don't believe me when I tell them there is obviously something wrong, but I know better. I think we may have another Remus Lupin case- a person at Hogwarts pretending to be normal when in fact they're not. Of course I like Remus, not so much my current object of research. I won't mention any names here- it's too dangerous. What if this was found?_

Hermione sighed and rubbed at her temples. She had ink on her fingers and it had rubbed off on her face but she didn't really care. Anyone who came in would see Hermione in full-studying mode.

Her bushy hair had fallen out of the quick ponytail she'd thrown it in when she'd begun her research almost five solid hours ago. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her mouth was weary and downturned. Her robes were rumpled, there was an inkstain on her sleeve. Her hazel eyes were dull and haggard.

She wanted to sleep, so much. She wanted to forget about the dark suspicion lingering in her heart like the rope of a hangman's noose. She wanted to push away the notes and think about mundane things like her Transfiguration test tomorrow.

She wanted to forget she had even noticed.

But she had. And insatiable curiosity possessed her in just a firm a grip as the dark simmering fear and betraying self-doubt. Did she even want to know the truth behind the lie? Did she even want to be the one to pull off a facade that had lasted for more years than she had been born?

Of course she didn't. But Hermione was not a Gryffindor for nothing.

Maybe if she'd known, she would have forgotten after all.

Maybe if she'd known, she would have thrown those notes into the fire after all.

Maybe if she'd known, she would have ran back to her friends waiting for her after all.

Maybe if she'd known, she would have gone to bed early after all.

But she didn't know, and she didn't do any of those things...

And wished she had ever after.

**Hello people! First of all, this idea is not mine! Credit for that goes to my weird friend who I am not entirely sure is a faerie or not...Nonetheless...Well, it's kind of mine as in I made it up, and I am in charge of the plot (*grins evilly* You lucky people) but she provided the inspiration.**


	2. Obsession

**Hey, let's play a game. Guess what the creepy weirdo is!**

**Hermione- Oh God. Save me. I'm contemplating suicide already.**

**Harry- I'm with you on that one. **

**Luna- Cheer up, guys! Unique isn't that bad!**

***Harry and Hermione give her a look***

**Luna- You don't even know her! This is just chapter two!**

**Unique- *dark laughter* ...Indeed...**

_Research Notes_

_Hermione Granger,_

_Gryffindor_

_I'm starting to wonder if I was wrong after all. I keep searching but all I can find is stupid references to fairytales. I think I might have found a hit. It sounds ridiculous but maybe...maybe I'm right. The books keeping referencing these 'pale-skins'. It sounds so eerily familiar...If only I could remember._

Luna Lovegood closed her eyes, and breathed out.

It was as if the world breathed out with her. She could sense the squirrel hiding in the leaves of the treetops, the bugs crawling over the leaves at her feet, the mischevious sprites peeking at her around a tree root, and the unseen, beautiful creatures that passed- wildly fey and completely unnoticed in the iron reasoning-choked world.

The rain ran in rivulets like tears down her cheeks. Her upturned face welcomed the cool blessing of nature. Her raised arms ached but she did not lower them. She felt the mystic magic play around her fingers, dance with the strands of her light blond hair. There was no breeze to chill the rain on her face, soaking her clothes.

The whispers of the Folk gathered at the base of the tree barely reached her weak rounded human ears. Their pale blue wings fluttered as they examined her, their tiny hard black eyes glittering as they searched for any deception.

Luna spread her palms open wide and trilled softly.

The pixies rustled excitedly.

They took off in a swirling storm of blue and purple, their paper-soft wings fluttering against Luna's face, their tiny fingers combing through her hair in wet ropes, tickling her neck. Their sweet voices lilted like the melodic tones of very high, very tiny flutes. One or two were even brave enough to land on her arms and shoulders.

They whispered to her in sweet dreams how the black one had trapped more of their sisters. Luna sighed and comforted the weeping pixies- their mercurial tempers switching to heartbreak from joy in the flutter of a silky lash. Their stinging tears felt odd next to the cool damp rain spitting lightly from the sky, like tiny pixie kisses on her eyelids, nose, cheeks, lips.

_-he comes and he sing sweet, so sweet-_

_-song, traps us and keeps us-_

_-dead cage, dead confinement-_

The pixies' gentle quiet voices turned shockingly from mourning to blackest fury.

_-he comes-_

Luna opened her eyes in shock, but she could see nothing of the 'black one' hiding twixt the trees.

_-shadow man hides- _the pixies hissed.

"Miss Lovegood," the cool, collected voice spun out of the dark like a thrown spiderweb, ready to entrap even the bravest or strongest with a single false step. The beautiful blue creatures around her swirled like autumn leaves in dancing columns as they shrieked and fled from the 'black one'.

Luna inclined her head, not in any particular direction, because she had no idea where he actually was. He lived within the shadows- their cool embrace chose to hide his starved visage from the sun's eye whenever they wished.

"I don't think they'll listen to your flute, next time sir." She said slightly dryly. It never hurt to be respectful, especially to someone like him.

Silence. She was not put off or perturbed. She was, after all, a Lovegood.

"Glareskinkies been troubling you much, sir?" Luna asked brightly.

There was a melancholic sigh from somewhere on her left. The blond girl resisted the incredible temptation to turn around and see where he was hiding.

He still didn't speak. Their conversations were always like this. He would greet her, alerting her to his presence- and then refuse to come out of hiding or speak again, and she would leave, feeling the hard dagger-points of his stare burning a hole through her back as she did so.

One last try, Luna thought to herself. Someday, she'd get him to speak to her. Luna was a firm believer in optimism. "If you set the old ones free again instead of keeping them in to rest, they'd probably trust you more."

That was quite enough, now, she decided firmly, and began quickly hurrying towards the edge of the small clearing she'd been standing in, pausing to scoop up her basket of collected madcap- a rare type of mushroom that warded off dixies and wrackspurts.

She may not believe the whispered rumours about his kind but even for her, she had a limited endurance.

She could sense the dark cloying feel of his shadowy amusement as he watched her from his hidden vantage point. A tendril of darkness brushed softly against her skin, she tried not to shudder. She must have failed.

An electric prickle ran up her spine as Luna heard the unmistakable unnatural laughter echo coldly in the back of her mind.

As soon as she was free of the Forbidden Forest and his watchful gaze, Luna ran all the way back to her common room.

**((()))**

"Hermione! You've got to come out some time, you know!" Harry complained.

The hard-working witch angrily pushed back her bushel of curly hair. Resolutely, she ignored the increasingly desperate pleas of Ron and Harry and continued to squint at the book. She was exhausted. So exhausted the words of the writing blurred and made dancing devils on the parchment, mocking her with gaping, inky mouths ready to swallow her whole...

"HERMIONE!"

Jerking upright, Hermione half fell out of her chair and the heavy book toppled off her lap and landed painfully on her foot with a dusty _thump. _She yelped as the brick-like tome connected solidly with her slippered foot.

"Finally," Ron muttered. The scowling redhead stood over her, a cup of steaming liquid in his hands. "Drink this," he ordered harshly, and thrust it at her.

Hermione sniffed it and wrinkled her nose at the smell of the rich black coffee. She hated coffee. One look at Harry and Ron's faces convinced her to shut up and drink. She tried a sip and winced at the acrid taste. Why did people drink this?

"Eat this," Harry snapped with just as much annoyance in his tone, and shoved a plate of sandwiches in her lap.

Confused, Hermione timidly nibbled at her sandwiches and gulped the too-strong coffee down as fast as she could, trying not to taste it. So tired. Why couldn't they let her alone? No, she had to find the answer...Her brain was muggy and unresponsive, refusing to offer up the question she'd been searching for the answer of.

Both boys stood there and glared at her until she'd eaten and drunk the horrid coffee. Firmly, Ron grabbed her studying things and tugged them out of her unresisting hands.

"When you read, you really get involved, don't you?" Harry asked her. "You realise you haven't stopped studying since you got in on Friday." With a pointed look at her confusion he said sharply, "It's Sunday afternoon."

Hermione blushed. "I was trying to find the answer..." she mumbled, burning red under their stare.

"You sound insane, 'Mione," Ron told her. "You were muttering about the 'answer' for ages- what answer?"

She blinked slowly. "I can't remember..."

Harry gave her a sidelong look. "You never forget _anything, _Hermione."

She grinned sheepishly. Her mirth was unexpectedly quashed when she felt a frown crease her brows. "It feels like there's some sort of block on my mind...whenever I try and break it I just get so...tired."

Harry frowned. "You don't think someone's cast a spell on you, do you?" he questioned worriedly.

"Why?" Ron asked in bafflement.

Harry shrugged. "Could be a trick."

Putting her head in her hands, Hermione closed her eyes and massaged her temples in an effort to thwart the pounding headache she could feel coming on.

She tried to remember what she had thinking about.

...suspicion...about...who?

She grabbed her notes off the floor, ignoring Harry and Ron's huffed sighs, and read them quickly.

Her active mind, hyper from coffee, jumped and twitched and connected the dots. Her eyes widened in shock and realisation. "Harry, Ron, I'm right! There's a –"

She fainted.

**Luna- ...I'm being stalked?**

**Hermione- Look, I like books, but not enough to spend an entire day forgetting to eat or sleep or- *sighs* Alright, alright...**

**Harry- *stares at Unique cackling madly in the corner* I think she's insane.**

**Ron- All female creatures are insane, mate.**


	3. Discovery

**This has been so awful so far. I don't care I've had no reviewers; it doesn't even seem worth writing. But at least I may as well continue...**

_Research Notes,_

_Hermione Granger,_

_House Gryffindor_

_I've found it. Of course. It makes sense now- I still haven't told Harry and Ron. What would I say to them? Oh yeah, the guy you've always distrusted is actually a monster?_

_I've been recovering for weeks in the Hospital Wing. I keep getting random blackouts and headaches- leftover from whatever charm he used to shut off my brain and keep me from finding out. But it's getting easier to think about, though most of the time whenever I even try to _think _the word let alone write it I get such a killer-headache it makes me want to die._

_Not that I'd tell Madame Pomfrey. I don't trust myself to be left unattended and drugged into sleep. I don't know how he managed to enchant me last time- I don't want to wait and find out. _

_What I just don't get is why he's still here. It's so dangerous for him here, he must have Dumbledore's approval. But why? Though, Dumbledore did let a werewolf teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, so I guess anything is possible._

_But why him?_

_Whatever enchantment was placed over me was very clever. I have no idea what it has done to my mind, only that I find it extremely difficult to recall anything about him. Not that I'd ever been particularly interested. He was always such a...well, you know...to everyone. But I have the truth now. I sound like one of those vigilantes don't I? Well, no one else is going to do it._

_What if he tries to kill me?_

_A few weeks ago I wouldn't have believed he would- everything seemed so crystal, clear-cut, shining, glimmering with facets. But hard and cold, and heavy when you try and lift it away, and when you try to peer through it, it messes with your sight. _

_I can't involve Harry and Ron. If he really does try and kill me, I'll just be one of the other countless victims he's probably drained. But if Harry, Golden Boy of Gryffindor is involved...Would he try to kill him as well?_

_Harry's the only hope against Voldemort. He can't afford to die. But...I admit it, I'm terrified. _

_What if I end up like the myths say? A walking ghost dressed in white with a black smile and ruby eyes? A servant, brainwashed to do his bidding?_

_I've read so much about the dark powers they're supposed to have. Most of them are just myths, hopefully. _

_But he doesn't look like one of them. I guess it must be because he hasn't fed in so long. Harry and Ron keep questioning me about my faint. I didn't mean to do that, but what could I tell them? I fobbed them off with an excuse that it must have been the tiredness from working so long and hard._

_But it wasn't, it was him messing with my mind. But how could I say that? Just walk up to them, smile and tell everything? _

_I think there's something different about Luna as well. Not anything more different than normal Luna, I guess, but I think she knows the truth, because she gave me a necklace yesterday and said it was for protection against 'creatures of the moon'. The way she looked at me it was clear she knew something about my research._

_Again, what can I say? I plan to confront him tonight? Oh yeah, Harry, Ron, you know if I don't come back, don't worry, Ok? Take care of my books?_

**((()))**

It had been too long. Far, far too long.

He rolled his shoulders back, breathing in the fresh, clean air of a summertime morning. His steps made no sound as he walked between the dark pools of shadow clustered at the bases of the tall, imposing trees. The canopy threw lines of choppy patchwork over the pine needle leaf mulch forest floor, and if he craned his head up he could see past the looming, imposing firs and catch a glimpse of lighter green- the bright sun, shining overhead. Stinging pelts of rain attacked his skin as leaves grew too heavy and dumped their load on him. He didn't mind. He welcomed the icy water running down his neck, under his collar, over his face. It reminded him he could still feel.

If only in the physical sense.

He breathed deeply, savouring the new, untainted air of a morning unspoiled by hiding his true nature. Here he could be who he really was.

A prowling, vicious creature with one thing one its twisted mind- hunger.

He could say he was wandering aimlessly, but it would be a lie. His feet took him deliberately towards a particular clearing, where the fairies liked to dance and play.

Far too long since he had been able to be himself. Far too long since he could feel the fear he deserved, rather than hatred and condescension. Far too long since he could assuage the burning in his throat, the dark hunger that characterised his every waking thought and feeling. Far too long since he had cornered a victim, see their eyes darken with fear and yet at the same time, hopeless interest, none could resist a monster's deathly charm.

_Monster. _How many times had he addressed himself as such?

The light was hurting his eyes. He blinked, and wondered if Remus Lupin ever felt the same way.

Suddenly, he stopped, recognising the lay of the land. Was he just masochistic, or did he really enjoy torturing himself with what he couldn't have?

_But you're here now, _the darkness inside him tempted. _It won't hurt. Just to look._

Of course it will hurt, he snapped back to himself angrily, it always hurts. To see one so close, so close, but force himself to lurk out of sight...

_There is something seriously wrong with me. _The moment the thought registered he let out a harsh bark of laughter. What was right with him?

He murmured a soft spell and the shadows reached up and enfolded him in their cool darkness. The light immediately filtered out of his sight. With a noiseless sigh of relief, he made his silent way between the menacing trees, as much at home here in this untamed, dark place as the fey spirits, pausing to watch him with round huge oval black eyes and gaping mouths ringed by sharp bloody teeth. He felt their claws rake across his skin in a familiar sharp caress.

His steps were in synchrony to the drumming pulse he could sense just beyond.

The shadow-world was shaded in greys and blacks, but he could see just as well in the pervading gloom. Like a ghost, he drifted restlessly amongst the towering trunks, heading slowly in a roundabout direction towards the clearing.

He was helplessly drawn to it like a moth to a flame, sinking into a low hunter's crouch. The rain was falling too slowly in the shadows; he walked between the lancing drops with ease, untouched.

The darkness ran cool tongues across his form and then sneaked out a few curious tendrils, pulling towards the light shining shockingly bright through the trees. He blinked, a mutilated hiss instinctively drawn from his throat as he retreated into the more comfortable shadows, which were more than eager to welcome their son away from the illumination.

Peering through the gaps in the trees, he finally found what he was looking for.

She was already there, of course. Her face was tilted back, her soaked blond hair hanging around her face in wet ropes. Her skin was hot and flushed with life, from this distance he could smell the unique fragrance of her scent, mixed in with the damp and freshness of the new rain, and the fairies' soft blue magic.

He cocked his head as he watched the fairies spiral away into the thundering sky, their high-pitched noise like a screeching note sustained by mourning flutes. He could never understand them, but it seemed as if she knew sometimes.

She lowered her arms from the upraised position they'd been in, which he regretted. He liked watching the pulse jump in the skin of her wrist. Masochistic, yes, but he liked to see proof that another was still alive because of his self-control. How many times had he tested himself like this, driving himself insane with proximity, only to retreat successful?

It was the irresistible lure of having another creature that understood the blackness lurking within the depths of his twisted, shrunken heart. To taste their fear was almost as delicious as the empty triumph over his nature.

Her black student's robes fell and pooled around her wrists, her blond head bowed. He snarled quietly from the shadows, what he wouldn't give to be there, submitting at last to the frenzied hunger that hunted him day and night, sleep or wakefulness.

"Miss Lovegood," he whispered from the quiet, and was incredibly glad that none of his bloody desire had shown through in his voice.

He saw her stiffen, almost imperceptibly, and smirked. She nodded in an ambiguous direction and he had to snatch back hissing laughter.

This girl was just so much fun to torment. He stalked around the edges of the clearing, testing the boundaries. The light recoiled and snapped at him if he tried to get too close to the poor prey standing so vulnerable in the centre, the gentle shimmer of magical protection moving in lightning quick strands over her flushing skin. He kept his eyes on her the entire time, drinking in the sight of another, testing himself, pitting himself against the darkest enemy he had yet to overcome- himself.

"I don't think they'll listen to your flute next time, sir." She sounded so young, so very scared. His teeth gleamed.

She paused, obviously hoping for him to reply. He didn't.

"Glareskinkies been troubling you much, sir?" Her voice was falsely bright, it was clear she was attempting to hide her fear.

He sighed softly. One of the many things he hated about himself was his intolerance to light. The Light hated him. It actively sought him out in his darkest lairs to burn his skin and lash his eyes.

"If you set the old ones free instead of keeping them in to rest, they'd probably trust you more." Miss Lovegood babbled quickly, her cheeks flushing brilliant red. She was clearly frightened. For good reason.

He observed her blush with the dispassion of a hunter stalking a stag.

Then, to his great amusement, she began to hurry out of the clearing, back into the dark domain of the forest.

He laughed silently, his teeth flashing, his black eyes shining with twisted mirth.

She ran away from him, sensing his sidling approach with the sixth sense Miss Lovegood had learned to develop so well. But she was in his domain now, an intruder into the shadow.

He hounded her, chasing her, leaping from tree to tree, his mocking laughter echoing in her ears. She screamed as she ran, he could see her lips pressed into a thin line, as if she wished she could recoil the sound as soon as it had been unleashed.

His hunt came to an expected but no less unwelcome end when she burst out of the fringe of the Forbidden Forest, the light snatching it's child gratefully back into its motherly embrace, hissing and spitting and clawing at his sensitive eyes and skin. He howled, and shrank back, shocked to his senses by the voracious attack.

He slammed his head into a tree. _Monster._

**((()))**

"Any funny feelings," Madam Pomfrey paused to deliver a stern look at the recalcitrant witch, "Then you come straight back here, understand?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Hermione swallowed the desire to howl and rage around in her uncomfortable cot. She was going stir-crazy. She needed to revise; she needed to plan what she was going to say, map out what possibilities his reaction could be, and ensure she had a good backup plan if things went horribly wrong.

Which they had a terrifyingly high chance of doing.

And Madam Pomfrey would not let her be! If she didn't go away very soon, Hermione would have to throw a tantrum. And that would just spoil her credibility.

Luckily, the nursewitch smiled once more, accepted Hermione's fervent assurance, and bustled away to do whatever she did when there were no students to be nursed at the time.

Hermione hopped up, breathing out a sigh of relief. It was only a faint. She really needn't have stayed overnight, but Madam Pomfrey had insisted when Hermione had revealed the depth of her headache. The nurse had finally cracked the problem with some sort of sweet-smelling gunk she had burned in a little saucer at Hermione's bedside. It hadn't worked of course, the headache came back as soon as she contemplated _him, _but heaven forbid Madam Pomfrey discover Hermione was not as well as she pretended.

Not that a headache would matter where she was going. She was probably headed straight for an extended vacation with Harry's mother and father.

She winced at her own thoughts.

She stood slightly shakily, grasping the headboard as headrush made the world swoop dizzyingly before her eyes.

Swallowing, she glanced down at the pretty cards and the box of chocolates she had determinedly refused to touch Harry and Ron had left her. The sweet gesture almost brought tears to her eyes. Hermione never would be considered stupid. She knew the chances of her surviving once _he _found out she knew his secret were about ten to one.

_Face it, _that horrible, dark voice drawled in her mind, _You're going to die. You're never going to see them again..._The voice conjured up resolve-shattering images of Harry and Ron weeping over her own stiff, cold body, pale blue with death's kiss.

Hermione trembled. Her throat became tight as she realised that she would most likely never see anyone she cared about again.

_Unless..._the voice purred. _Unless you just don't. Turn a blind eye. No one needs to know._

For a moment Hermione's resolve watered and she half-found herself preparing to run back to her comfortable bed in the Gryffindor dormitories. Where she would be safe.

_No, _she thought, drawing strength from the inadvertent qualifier, _no, no one will ever be safe while he roams free._

_But how can you possibly defeat him? Go to Dumbledore, _the voice hissed.

_Dumbledore won't do anything, _Hermione realised.

_And if he's managed to take in Dumbledore..._The vicious voice taunted, _how can you possibly expect to do anything against him?_

_Because I know the truth, _she snapped, and tried to crush the crawling, insidious fear threatening to weaken her further with each passing second and took several confident steps forward.

She remained like that, taking one methodical step after the other. It felt as if she were wading in quicksand, the enchantment he had put on her dragged at her strength and endurance, weakening her. She felt the headache increase with every step she took forward, until it became a horrendous thudding on her temples, as if two Quidditch beaters stood on either side of her head, smashing their bats into her head with all their strength.

She swayed, and gripped the wall, as the flickering corridor flashed in and out of blackness. She tasted blood. Darkness crawled lazily along the edges of her vision, she could hear nothing but the pounding beat of her heart. A dry sweat sprung over her body and she shivered feverously. Her knees trembled.

_I'm going to faint._

The wall was cool and slimy under her hand. She pressed her forehead to it, striving to forget the headache, forget the enchantment, and occupy her thoughts with mundane and Hermione-ish things.

It didn't work. Her knees wobbled once more, and then she heard an iron clang and a soundless scream of triumph.

She wondered why she was on the floor. Her head throbbed painfully, but the cold, hard rigidity of the floor eased her swirling, disorientating dizziness. She swallowed. Her tongue felt like it was stuck to the roof of her mouth, and her mouth stuffed with sawdust. She could feel blood kindling in her left ear, which made no sense.

_Since when has anything ever made sense with him? _The voice reminded her throatily.

Hermione felt at slight loss as to why she was lying on the floor. Wasn't she supposed to be in her bed? Or had she been so tired she'd fallen asleep in the common room, and someone had turfed her out of a chair?

Hermione opened her eyes.

Utter blackness met her.

Worry seized her, deepening into panic as she blinked stupidly at the blackness above her. Was she blind? Had the fall injured her eyesight?

Slowly, Hermione got one hand underneath herself and pushed herself cautiously into a sitting position. She opened her eyes again.

Soft, flickering candles sent pools of weak yellow light against the dank walls. The air reeked of mould and decay. The floor under Hermione's palms was not smooth, polished, cool and marble to the touch, but rocky, damp, and covered with a fine layer of uncomfortable grit.

Where was she?

She clearly remembered getting out of bed in the Hospital Wing and the long, gruelling, disorientating trek. But she didn't remember coming here.

Uncertainly, she stood up, grasping the wall for support and enduring the headrush. When the momentary panic-faint had passed, she began making her way down the corridor, gripping her wand tightly. The smooth polished stick felt familiar and comfortable in Hermione's shaking hand.

The distinctive sound of thudding footsteps sent Hermione scrambling back into the nearest wall and casting a quick shield around herself which she hoped would avoid her detection.

It worked. A slender, foreign looking Slytherin dashed past her without a second glance of his glittering black eyes, his dark green robes glinting like snakeskin. He skidded around the corner and was gone. Just as Hermione wondered how such a small and skinny person could make so much noise, _another _student ran past.

This time it was a Gryffindor, Hermione vaguely recognised him but could not remember his name for the life of her. She half-stepped forward to ask him for directions but he charged straight past her, his beefy red neck flushed and red with anger. She reeled back as she caught the unmistakable stench of alcohol and sweat.

Hermione made a mental note to find out his name and report him personally, not only for running in the corridors but for drinking.

The voice laughed harshly. _If you survive this, darling, _it drawled.

Hermione swallowed and told the voice to shut the hell up.

It cackled but did as she bid.

Trying to make the least noise as possible, Hermione crept down the corridor towards the direction the Slytherin and the Gryffindor had ran in. Soon enough, she came to an intersection.

Hermione puzzled over which way to go, glancing from right to left. Both were equally gloomy, deserted dark corridors with dying, greasy candles placed at irregular intervals.

Left...or right?

She really didn't want to go left. It looked like a gaping maw rearing open to swallow her whole.

_Which way do you want to go? _The voice hummed suggestively.

Hermione half-frowned. Wasn't it supposed to be the first sign of madness- hearing voices?

Nonetheless, she considered the question. Hermione's madness was still Hermione, and Hermiones did not waste questions.

_Or do we? _The voice countered, modulating it's- no, it was definitely a female, Hermione decided- _her _voice even more seductively.

_Why are you talking to me like that? _Hermione asked the voice, slightly fearing of having a female voice in her head that was hitting on her.

The Voice sighed. _Because darling, you're too much of a good girl to go around and seduce any boys, so your bad side never gets to play. _Hermione received the impression the Voice was shrugging. _You're the best I've got, honey._

_Are you saying you're my bad side? _

If the Voice had them, Hermione was sure she would have licked her lips. _Yes..._the Voice all but hissed, _I am your naughty side, Hermione Granger. _

If someone had been watching Hermione, they would have observed with some concern how her mouth inexplicably dropped open and her eyes widened in shock and horror, and how she grasped weakly at the wall for support, all the while muttering to herself in a most worrying manner.

_I am the side, _the Voice continued inexorably, _the reminds you that although he's an absolute **** , Draco Malfoy is really hot. I am the side that wished Krum would kiss you and make Ron so jealous he wanted to kill himself. I am the side that wondered, when Snape gave you back that test- _Hermione swallowed, she remembered _that _test, the test wherein she had gotten under 70, her darkest low- _how it would feel to use the Cruciatus curse on him, I am the side that selfishly enjoys it when Ron pines after you. I am the side that tempts you to take another chocolate. I am the side that wants you to cheat. I am the side that is jealous of all those other pretty girls. I am the side that wants to _dominate. _I am the side that wants to just mindlessly make out with every attractive boy that passes through the door. I am the side that lusts for blood. I am your dark side, Hermione, _the Voice replied with some amusement.

_...I have a dark side? _Hermione questioned incredulously.

The Voice sighed melodramatically. _Yes, little idiot. Now hurry up and go left._

_Why left? _Hermione wanted to know.

_Why is it that all good people are stupid? _The Voice, or the Dark Side, wondered loudly. When Hermione flushed and prepared to argue, the sardonic voice drawled, _Because that is the way the enchantment he has lain over you to stop him reaching him is trying to tell you not to go._

_Oh. _Hermione felt very stupid, but took the left anyway. Even if the Voice was secretly her dark side-

_-It's no secret, honey, _the Voice drawled-

-she had raised a valid theory. Biting her lip, Hermione considered that her 'dark side' was conscious and speaking to her. Of course, she had heard of people with the little angel and devil, but honestly?

Maybe it was a by-product of the enchantment, Hermione concluded sensibly, as it was unlikely she had randomly turned insane in the course of a night and day. The only traumatising thing that had happened to her that could have possibly caused her sanity's fractious new intruder was the pain-wracking, mind-messing enchantment.

Hermione was planning to have strong words.

_If he doesn't kill you first. _The Voice reminded her gloomily.

She had been walking for some time when she finally noticed that the corridor was becoming smoother and the candles brighter, more evenly spaced. She breathed a sigh of relief- hopefully she was nearing civilisation.

She kept to the left of the corridor, peering around corners before edging past them. It was this precaution that saved her once more from detection.

Two Slytherins, a girl and a boy, were kissing wildly, pressing each other up against the dungeon wall. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust at the pair- they looked like they were practically trying to chew each other's faces off.

_You're jealous, _the Voice sang.

_I am not! _Hermione protested, her cheeks flushing.

_Of course you are. Look at them. No one wants to touch _you _like that, do they? _The nasty Voice continued.

_Shut up, _she snapped back at the irritating voice, pushing down the squirming feelings of shame and embarrassment that they both knew proved the Voice right.

As carefully as she could, Hermione renewed her notice-me-not charm and snuck past the two Slytherins. She needn't have bothered, they were so wrapped up in one another she could have come thundering past with cymbals and trumpets and they wouldn't have noticed.

The Voice's insidious purr tempted Hermione softly with well-aimed stabs, reminding her, _you want it too, honey, don't deny it. _She purposefully brought to mind Viktor Krum, whom Hermione had dated shortly at the Triwizard Tournament held at Hogwarts. The Voice conjured all of the girlish crush Hermione had had, and then slyly added, _of course, now you have no one._

The Voice's experienced needling made Hermione want to cry, but she swallowed down her tears, sealed her tight throat and edged past the lip-locked Slytherins, breathing a choked sigh of relief when she emerged into open corridor.

A little while past, she began encountering portraits, of frowning men with pale, haughty faces. They all looked too posh to be anything but Slytherin pureblood, so Hermione ignored them and hurried on by.

Eventually, she entered an area she recognised.

She was, as suspected, in the dungeons. Rather close to her destination, in actual fact. Hermione smirked, as she followed the push of the enchantment. He was very clever, and had prevented her from finding out for years, but no one could defeat Hermione's brain.

The Voice laughed at her.

Coming to a halt before an unfamiliar and imposing heavy stone door that rather resembled a prison door, in fact, most students considered the room beyond it to be a prison, a personal hell set aside specially, Hermione breathed in deeply, closed her eyes, and prayed.

She did not pray to God or any deity but to fate and luck, that they protect her on her solitary quest. She had never truly had to face the horrors of an adventure all by herself, she'd always had Harry and Ron, her faithful friends. Even if they were a bit smelly and stupid sometimes.

But now she had no one. No one but an annoying voice that claimed to be her evil side.

_Not evil, _the Voice protested, _just dark, thank you very much. There is no such thing as good and evil, Hermione, only power, and those too weak to use it._

Hermione ignored her. Raising her wand, she knocked quickly and pushed open the door.

_Why the hell did you knock? _The Voice demanded. _Seriously?_

It was dark and silent. Before her the room seemed to open up, reaching with shadowy arms to scoop her into its greedy black mouth, to destroy her, once and for all. The air was thick and muggy with smoke and potion, and in the hazy gloom she could see vague shapes of slimy dead things hung up on the slippery sandstone walls. The dungeon was dark and oppressive, it's low ceiling and smoggy atmosphere making her feel closed in, trapped, penned, like a lamb led trustingly to the slaughter.

At the front she could see a great cloaked shape, black, like a bat crouched over the place where the teacher normally took the lesson. It was him, she was sure of it, even as her migraine increased in strength now he was here.

As if he sensed her presence, the shadow stopped, raising it's head, a deformed dark blot atop it's equally vague outline. The smoky air Hermione was breathing stabbed at her lungs, made her dizzy.

She raised her wand.

He turned, and a cold, clear voice, she could hear the monster lurking behind his every syllable now she paid attention, but she could hear he had grown excellent at shielding it. "Miss Granger."

That was all he said, but it was all he needed to say. Suspicion saturated his voice, ripe with condescension and the right amount of threat to make any normal person turn around, make their hasty apologies and run.

Instead, Hermione whipped around, pretending to be shocked. "_LUMOS!" _ she screamed.

A bright light shot out of her wand, shooting straight towards the creature. He screamed, the darkness pushed away from him by the magical light, and a horrific jolt of recognition clashed angrily through her frame.

The wand dropped from her nerveless hand and the maddened monster shrieked with a frenzied growl, his teeth shining like dagger-points, his onyx eyes like abyss pits into which so many had fallen only to fall victim to his twisted hunger.

Hermione backed away as he stalked towards her, shaking, gasping in shock and fear and terror.

It was true.

There was a vampire in Hogwarts.

**Ah hah! You still don't get to know who Mr. Vamp is I'm afraid, but at least you know what he is. **


	4. Sleeping Beauty

Luna Lovegood hurried quickly down the echoing marble corridor, a worried frown creasing her brow, her usual dreaminess abandoned in favour of jumpy nervousness. She spun around, scanning the threatening shadows as if everyone concealed a lurking, grinning monster ready to jump out and entrap her.

Her robes flapped around her ankles as she, biting back a cry, identified the looming threat as her friend, Neville Longbottom.

"Luna?" He questioned with a yawn.  
"Seen Hermione?" Luna asked immediately, grasping her friend's arm and slowing them to a halt.

Neville blinked at her sleepily. "What?"

With a huff of impatience, Luna yanked his arm and continued to tug him down the corridor towards the Great Hall, where all the other students were gathering for breakfast.

It was still early, and as such the sunlight streaming through the evenly spaced arched windows was weak. A thrill of goosebumps raced each other up the uneven skin of her arms as her flapping robes wafted waves of chilly early morning air up her sleeves. She was glad for her jumper.

Luna's hair streamed behind her like a living, rippling pennant of gold as she increased her pace to a full out sprint, feeling her pounding heart increase to match her speed. It was as if she managed to reach the Great Hall fast enough than Hermione would be fine. Would be sitting there chatting to her friends...

The huge doors burst open as Luna shoved them, a puffing, red-faced Neville tagging along confusedly behind her.

Desperately, her eyes ranged up and down the seats at the Gryffindor table. With a sinking heart, Luna's eyes confirmed what her heart already knew-

Hermione was gone.

**((()))**

"_I could kill you..."  
_Helplessly she flailed, a stifling blanket of darkness pressing down on her body, her mind, her heart. She writhed in cold sweat, her cries unheard, unmentioned in the black.

"Help me!" she moaned, but there was no answer. She was _alone. _Alone, gone, gone, no, save me!

"..Please..." tears ran down her cheeks.

Cold, firm stone beneath her searching hands. Whipping rain lashing her face. A chilling laugh racing up her spine. A woman's scream.

Then there was nothing.

**((()))**

"HERMIONE!" Luna shouted. "HERMIONE!"

Her yell resounded off the forbidding trunks of the tall dark trees. Behind her Neville raised his wand higher, his _Lumos_ spell casting a small pool of light amid the shady underworld of the forest. Beyond the forests' borders, strong noon sun burned bright and hot. The sky would be perfect azure blue, biting wind having chased away any cotton-puff clouds.

But beneath the trees, in the cool embrace of the shadowy Forbidden Forest, it was still eternal night.

It was as if all colours had been leeched from the twilight scene, it was a world of soft greys and blurred blacks, through which shadows danced and the only lights were from Neville's shaking wand and tiny pinpricks of lights, peeking eyes, peering around the roots. The whisper of tiny wings brushing together held witness to the fairies' presence, the only things; Luna was sure, keeping the darker denizens of the forest away.

She could just see Firenze's dim shape ahead of them, his tail swishing, and his weapon held tightly in one hand. The centaur was tense, they all were.

Dumbledore had allowed them to go searching for Hermione only after everyone had ascertained she was not in Hogwarts or on school grounds. Luna already knew where she was, where else would _he _put her?

But she played along with everyone else. It would do no good for everyone to hear the truth, despite what Hermione thought.

Hermione was wrong. Luna knew that if they tried to expose him, he would simply kill them. He would feel no regret, no hesitance. Hermione thought her position gave her some immunity, but Luna knew the only reason she was even bothering to search was because he delighted in torturing himself with abstinence.

Her mind envisaged Hermione, cold and pale and deserted at the foot of a tree, her skin white and cold, kissed with death, her eyes open and staring, still dark-black with the monster's charm, her hair swept delicately off of her long neck, baring that fatal, tiny slash, barely visible, sealed by his venom. She shuddered and felt her stomach convulse with revulsion and fear.

They were getting close now, to the grove Luna frequented to speak with the fairies. The tiny winged creatures were getting agitated as they approached the clearing, but they were buzzing too fast for her to make out their words. The general tone was one of anxiety, fear, and hatred.

One fairy sped out of the shadows and alighted on Luna's shoulder, ignoring Neville's shocked gasp.

_-Tainted! - _The fairy shrieked in her high pitched buzzing voice. Her beautiful, miniscule green eyes sparkled with tears and anger. Her black hair floated around her narrow little face like a storm cloud.

"Who?" Luna whispered. The fairy's gossamer wings, never quite still, flared at the sound of Luna's loud voice, although she had attempted to lower it.

_-brave soft sad broken- _the fairy trilled, and whirled away, finally scared off by Neville's proximity.

"You talked to a fairy!" the boy said, his eyes huge.

"Anyone can speak to them, if they will listen," Luna replied, growing sad, "but no one ever listens to the world anymore."

Neville was looking at her with newfound respect and awe. Luna smiled at him and said, "This way."

She started forward, gripping her wand tightly. She doubted he would still be there but it never hurt to be cautious. The fairies had disappeared, their conversation had frightened them. Luna kept an eye out for less helpful wanderers.

Finally, they were there. Light shone dimly through the trees. Luna blinked as her eyes adjusted to the bright, shocking light, too bright after the comparative blackness of the forest. A hiss echoed through the darkness, and Luna shivered.

Creeping forward, she approached the opening twixt the looming trunks through which she could see the untroubled facade of the clear blue sky. She paused, took a deep breath, and composed herself.

She tried not to imagine what horror she might see once she stepped around the final tree on the fringe of the clearing that had been a sacred haven to escape to for so long for her.

"Hey," said Neville, sensitive as always to other people. "Are you alright?"

Luna swallowed. How could she tell him she knew exactly what had happened, or could have happened, to Hermione Granger?

"Yes, I'm fine," she whispered, her voice cracking. Gathering up her courage, she straightened up, and stepped forwards.

Luna abruptly stopped, her breathless gasp sticking in her throat, closing it tight.

It was Hermione, all right. What was left of her, at least.

She lay like a broken porcelain doll, her body gracefully arranged on the huge stone block that had certainly not been there only yesterday. Frost lacing decorated the uncaring, smooth stone, shining and glittering with icy beauty, like the fair princess lying atop it. Her skin was as white as polished bone, tinted palely with light blue. Her normally insane, Einsteinian hair was smooth and fell in dark chocolate ringlets over her face, like a liquid curtain shielding her from view. Her long neck was left bare, enticingly vulnerable. She was still dressed in the Hogwarts school robes she had been in before, but now there were ragged rips in the material, as if she had been in a fight with a wild animal. Luna could spot a long gash on her arm that should have been weeping crimson, but instead remained dry.

Like a rippling wave of blue, fairies had settled all over Hermione's motionless body, their whispers quiet and soft in the stillness.

"_Hermione..." _Neville's gasp was anguished. He staggered towards his fallen friend, but the fairies hissed as one. Startled, the Gryffindor drew back.

_-softsadbravebroken- _the fairies sighed, and Luna could see the tears trailing their cheeks. A little fairy detached herself from the crowd and fluttered over to Luna, her wings brushing against Luna's cheek in a papery kiss. With a jolt, Luna recognised her as the fairy from earlier.

_-sleeps deep too deep- _the fairy told her, her expressive green eyes glinting and shining with tears.

Luna took half a step forward, not wishing to anger the fairies. They made no move, for or against. Approaching Hermione, Luna rasped her nails gently against the corpse-like girl's neck and wrists. Her nails did not catch on a sealed wound, a wound at her throat or wrists that would be clear witness to a vampire's attack.

Luna jolted. Her involuntary movement shocked the fairy off her perch on her shoulder, and scolding her with blistering reprimands, the petite creature landed on Hermione's neck, sitting down and putting one slim hand on the girl's jaw.

Desperate hope blossomed within Luna. The eccentric Ravenclaw grasped Hermione's wrist in her hand and checked. Yes! There it was a pulse, weak, and fluttering like a newborn bird's, but a pulse.

"_She's alive,"_ Luna breathed. "She's alive!"

Her shout startled the fairies, and they spiralled up into a storm of wings. The drumming of hoof beats made Luna whirl, and Neville raise his wand, prepared for attack. Firenze burst out of the woods, his dark eyes bright and alert. He reared when he saw Hermione's limp body, his deadly hooves flashing and pawing at the air.

"What is this?" the centaur said, horror-struck, "she is dead!"

"No," Luna reassured him, "Her pulse is still beating." She held out Hermione's wrist for the centaur to check. Firenze stared at the fairy, who was hovering uncertainly beside the pale girl stretched out like an offering on a sacrificial altar.

_-danger centaur hate rage- _she whispered in her fluting, bright voice. Luna could see that the tiny creature was shaking, her gossamer wings beating over-fast to hold her in position.

"We must return to Hogwarts," Firenze said firmly, and started towards Hermione, giving the fairy a hard look. She fluttered away from the unconscious girl and hid in Luna's hair. The strong centaur scooped up Hermione's limp body. Her head lolled against his shoulder, her hair falling away from her face.

Firenze noticeably stiffened. It was clear to see why.

Hermione's eyes fluttered open, but they were blank and staring. Her pupils were dilated so far her eyes appeared black, and her lips moved in incoherent sentences, although she made no sound. Her expression was one of frozen horror.

Luna remembered how Hermione had looked when she was petrified in her second year. She looked eerily similar, only now even more pale and corpselike than before.

With the centaur leading the way, Luna, Neville and Firenze made haste back to Hogwarts. It was a somber walk, Hermione's obvious condition had destroyed any joy they had felt over her confirmed living.

They ran into Hagrid at the edge of the Lake. He took one look at Hermione's body lying like a puppet with its strings cut in Firenze's arms and asked no questions. His normally jolly craggy face was grave and lined with age Luna had never seen before.

As they approached the castle, students stopped and stared at Hermione. Whispers flew from mouth to mouth like a virus, and Luna saw some girls crying, clustered together in a pack. Luna felt a sharp stab of savage hate towards them. They didn't really care about Hermione, hardly any of them knew her personally, but they cared about their image. And their image said they should be crying, so cry they did.

After what seemed an age, they finally arrived at the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey gasped when she saw Hermione and immediately had Hermione lain carefully on one of the lumpy hospital beds. She shooed Firenze, Neville, and Hagrid out, telling them she needed to attend to Hermione.

The nursewitch checked Hermione's pulse, and then to Luna's surprise ran her nails over Hermione's neck and wrists just as she had done. She took Hermione's temperature and frowned at the result.

"Ah," Madam Pomfrey turned and caught sight of Luna hovering nervously by the lax girl's motionless body. "Could you get Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape for me, please, dear?" Madam Pomfrey turned again, dismissing Luna's presence, the question more of an order than anything else.

Luna wondered about Madam Pomfrey asking for Snape. The Ravenclaw was uneasy about it but there was nothing she could do. It turned out she didn't need to, when she got to Dumbledore's office, both Snape and Dumbledore inside.

She had appeared to interrupt an argument. Snape was glowering at the floor as if he wished it would catch fire and send him straight to Tartarus, but it was not that dissimilar from his normal expression that Luna bothered with him. She had never liked the potionsmaster. No one liked him. He must have broken a record. Especially since she knew what he had done.

She glared at him through narrowed eyes as she spat out Madam Pomfrey's request. Snape raised his eyes and gave her a cool stare in return.

"Has something happened to Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, sounding genuinely sincere.

_Well, _Luna thought, _I guess they're right. If you can fake sincerity, then you've got it all._

"She was so cold. She looked like she'd been hit by a vampire." She stared straight at Dumbledore's deceptive blue eyes. They grew as cold as chips as ice.

Luna heard a barely audible growl, and despite herself, broke eye-contact with her headmaster to glance nervously at Snape.

The man was scowling at her so blackly Luna felt her courage literally shrivel up and die underneath his obsidian gaze. Snape seemed to tower over her, his derisive sneer overtaking all else.

"We'll be along now," Dumbledore said, and rose instantly. "Severus?" It was barely a question.

The headmaster paused at the door, clearly waiting for Snape and Luna. Obviously, he didn't want to leave the Ravenclaw on her own in his office.

Snape stormed past her, so close that his shoulder brushed her own, startling the fairy Luna had forgotten was nesting in her hair. Luna's eyes closed and she reeled as a wave of some intoxicating spice she had never smelled before slammed into her. She caught the edge of Dumbledore's desk, fighting dizziness. She heard Dumbledore say something, and Snape's cold voice reply, silky with satisfaction.

She opened her eyes, and the last thing she saw was the fairy, fluttering desperately, and Dumbledore's glacial blue eyes before the darkness claimed her.

**((()))**

Harry stared listlessly at the food heaped on his plate. He couldn't bring himself to eat it. Just the thought made his stomach turn.

He couldn't eat- not when Hermione could, maybe never would, ever again.

Ron next to him was greedily ramming food down his throat as if it were going out of fashion. It was disgusting and Harry had noticed there was no one sitting next to or opposite Ron anymore, but he didn't have the heart to reprimand him. That was Hermione's job. But Hermione wasn't here.

It felt as if a huge Hermione-shaped hole had been blown through the world, a Hermione-shaped darkness where the stars should be, a Hermione-shaped blank where his memory, his joy should be, a Hermione-shaped shroud over people's faces, blurring names and dates into one incoherent nightmare, a Hermione-shaped hole through which the blood of his life drained through, leaving him empty and numb.

_Numb._

It was as if he were watching the world, apart, in some dusty cinema with the sense of clinical detachment film-watchers knew, staring at flickering grey shapes dancing fuzzily on the crackling, poor quality screen. He saw without seeing , knew without knowing, the growing distance between him and the rest of the world, Ron, even faithful Ron.

Harry noticed things about Ron he hadn't before, his laziness, his inability to hold a sensible conversation, his unwillingness to do anything remotely academic, his eating habits, his generally slovenly and slothful ways that had always seemed ordinary to Harry that as a boy should be his right and norm. But now, with Hermione gone, he saw all the things he had never noticed before she had done for them, how a stray phrase or a thrown word had made miraculous sense of a puzzling lesson or homework, how much rougher and ruder Ron and he seemed without Hermione to temper them with her unwavering feminine persistence in forcing cleanliness on all creatures, how emptier the conversations were without Hermione arguing over house elf rights with Ron...now she was gone.

_Gone. _

The word sounded so final. So abrupt. So...dead.

_Dead. _Oh Merlin, she looked like she was dead. Like a corpse.

His throat was so tight it hurt to breathe, and he felt traitorous tears stab his eyes harshly, but he blinked quickly, forcing them back. He tried swallowing, it eased the pain of his throat for a second and then the harsh constriction was back, as if he had swallowed a stone.

All too clearly he could remember, as if it were etched in his eyelids, Hermione's still, blue-white icy body, all colour leeched from her. Her long curly hair black, and splayed over the pillow, shocking darkness to her alabaster pale face, the startling black of her eyelashes, the bruise purple-black underneath her eyes, the deep ruby red of her lips, as if she had been drinking blood, her white slender hands crossed over her chest as if she were simply waiting for transferral into her tomb, and not lying dressed in a thin white hospital nightgown covered by a thin white hospital sheet on a thin white mattress, the jolting bleep of the heart monitor powered by magic telling her viewers that the snowy princess they saw was still alive, just hibernating, asleep, fading, dying...

_Dying._

Dead. Gone. Empty. Vanished. Alone.

_Alone._

Harry choked back a sob. It was too much to sit here calmly, normally in the Great Hall, with Ron shovelling down his food, and his housemates chattering excitedly to one another about the next Quidditch game, Hufflepuff against Slytherin.

He shoved back his bench, startling Ron, who spilled some of his pumpkin juice, but forbore to express his annoyance when he saw the dark, brooding, closed in expression on Harry's face.

The boy who lived jumped up and ran, far out of the hall, away from everyone else.

He heard the thump of Ron's footsteps behind him, and wished savagely the well-meaning redheaded would just go away and die and leave Harry to his anguish.

He shocked himself at his own thought, and stumbled. Head over heels he went, scrabbling at the empty air in panic, to land with a heavy thud against the cold marble floor.

Broken, he lay there, unable to see, his glasses had been thrown from his face.

"Harry? Mate?" Ron asked in a quiet whisper. "Are you alright?"

Rage unfurled, like a vicious angry monster crouched in Harry's chest, wires of barbs slicing into his heart with every breath, squashing him, suffocating him...

"NO!" He screamed, and jumped to his feet. He didn't care he couldn't see anything. He didn't care about anything, only the white hot pouring rage liquefying his veins, turning his blood to hot hellfire ready to explode. "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE!"

Ron stumbled back, hurt crossing his simple face.

Harry drew his wand, pointed it shaking at the orange black Ron blob. "Leave," he hissed.

_Kill him..._a voice purred softly in his mind, _kill him, kill him, kill him..._

"Mr Potter!" An astounded female voice cried, and Harry whipped around and saw a blurry emerald shape hurrying towards him. "Mr Potter! Put your wand down this instant!"

The rage didn't like her. A growl rumbled his throat, he felt the telltale sparks of magic gathering at his command.

"Mr Potter!" Minerva McGonagall shouted one last time, and Harry snapped.

He started to shout a hex, but the professor raised her wand and snapped "Expelliarmus!"

His wand ripped itself out of his hand. Harry stared dumbly at his empty hand, and then began to cry.

Heaving, destructive sobs shook his thin frame, and he sank limply to the floor, undone and overcome before the gathering crowd of students. McGonagall approached him, and urged him gently to his feet, wrapping a motherly arm around his shaking shoulders.

"Come on Harry," she said quietly. "Let it go."

**((()))**

Hermione wasn't alone when Harry went to see her.

The Invisibility Cloak was as cool as ever, like the touch of the waves on a hot summer's day. The world was dull and grey with the shroud of night, and the corridors were empty and deserted. Professor McGonagall had advised him not to go see Hermione, but Harry was willing to break a few rules to see his friend.

The infirmary was coloured in stark white and unforgiving ruthless black. Patients looked like corpses waiting in a undertaker's room. With a start, Harry saw Luna, her face bleached white by the moonlight, her long blond hair snowy and splayed across the pillow, a tiny fairy nestling in her collarbone. Why was Luna in here?

He stepped forward to investigate, but then a dark shape hovering like a malignant bat caught his eye. Severus Snape was sitting next to Hermione, his black eyes staring straight at Harry, as if he could see through the cloak and his flesh all the way to Harry's soul. A sneer twisted Snape's lips.

"Mr Potter," he whispered in his dry, cold voice, "Fifty points from Gryffindor for being out of bed after curfew."

_How could he see through the Cloak? _Harry pulled it off, and glared at the potions master. "Why are you here?" He hissed, not bothering to contain his animosity.

"I could ask you the same question."

"Get away from her!" Harry demanded, the sight of Snape anywhere near Hermione was sickening.

The pale man smirked. "I am here to watch over her and the other patients while Madam Pomfrey rests." He said, and did not move.

"I don't care," Harry snapped, "Get away from her."

Snape's eyebrow rose.

Any further reply he might have made was forestalled by a soft moan from the girl on the narrow hospital bed. Forgetting Snape in an instant, Harry rushed to Hermione's side. Her eyes fluttered open, they were as round and black as marbles. One hand flopped listlessly towards him.

"...Hah...hah..." her lips mumbled, "...vbambiur...vam...pire..."

"Vampire?" Harry repeated, confused.

"Sh," Snape ordered, and turned Hermione's face towards him. "Miss Granger, what can you see?"

_She's still asleep, _Harry realised.

"...vam...pire...Hogwarts...vam...pire...no...stupid," Hermione breathed. "man...so cold...so stupid..."

"It was stupid," Snape said in a soft voice that seemed almost comforting, "Very stupid."

The girl's hand twitched towards the professor. "...vampire..."

Her eyes closed and a sigh rattled out of her lips. Snape let her go instantly, looking faintly nauseated.

Harry nodded, that was normal. A kind Snape was just unimaginable.

"Every time," the potionsmaster hissed in annoyance, taking a potion off the bedside table. Carefully, with the dispassion of a man that wished he would be anywhere else, he opened Hermione's mouth and poured the potion inside, tipping her head up so she would swallow and not drown herself. He muttered something about just typical that he would end up taking care of the bloody brats when the nurse they _paid _to do so decided to go off.

Hermione's frown smoothed out and a gentle smile touched her lips as the potion took effect. Her breathing settled into the steady, sleeping rhythm it had been in since they had recovered her from the Forest.

"You just put her back to sleep," Harry remarked in confusion, "But she was close to waking up."

"No," Snape said, "She was still very asleep. She was simply experiencing a hallucination that fortunately, involved both of us at her bedside, and sleep-talked. I gave her a potion for dreamless sleep- there has been less pleasant episodes. Now, Potter, leave." He sighed irritably. "If I'd known Miss Granger was so popular with the male student body I would have recommended Dementors guard her..."

"What do you mean?" Harry jumped on the statement.

Snape gave him a glare, but Harry was used to it. "I've been sending stupid, vacuous idiots away since dusk," he snapped. "Another fifty points from Gryffindor for loitering, now _go!"_

"Oh," Harry felt at loss. Numbly, he picked up the Cloak and shrugged it on. He hurried out of the infirmary, his mind churning.

_Why were so many people visiting Hermione? _He wondered. It made him strangely angry to knew that others had been compelled as he had to ensure she was fine.

_Don't be stupid, _he remonstrated to himself, but he couldn't help but remember Hermione's words.

If there was a vampire in Hogwarts...

Who was it?


	5. I Would Pay The Price

**I apologize, I had high hopes for this chapter but sadly, it failed before it could fly. **

**Reply to faerie friend- Watch me! I can kill anyone if I wish! Not saying that she will die...but she might. *evil laughter* you never know! ;D**

She opened her eyes, and was greeted with the arching sculptured ceiling of the Hospital Wing. Her eyes fell down and saw a box of get well chocolates waiting for her at the end of the bed.

_What am I doing here? _She asked herself, struggling to push through the mire of quicksand her memory had become. Luna remembered speaking to Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore, telling them to come down to the Hospital Wing and help Madam Pomfrey with Hermione. But she could not remember the walk back. So how had she got here then?

_Unless someone carried you, _her mind interjected unhelpfully. Luna winced at the thought. She hoped she hadn't been too heavy for whoever it was. It would be incredibly embarrassing.

She heard a high pitched buzz somewhere near her left ear and instinctively glanced to the left. A familiar fairy was perched on the bedside table. Luna smiled at the little creature, who beamed back at her. The fairy's emerald eyes sparkled and her skin glittered with the little magic she possessed, and her long dark chocolate brown hair had been pushed back with a headband made of vine.

_-Awake! - _The fairy chirruped joyfully.

"Hello," Luna said. "Do you have a name?"

The fairy's head tilted. Obviously she was confused. Then she shook her head.

"How about I give you a name?" Luna asked.

The fairy beamed with ecstatic joy. Luna smiled back; the fairy's enthusiasm was infectious.

Luna looked at the fairy's pale blue skin and vibrant emerald eyes and thought about what to call her. She grinned, and suggested, "What about Yellow?" She was always so happy, so why not the colour of happiness?

The fairy bounced up and down and squeaked. Luna took that as a yes.

"Ah, you're awake!" Madam Pomfrey bustled up; her cheery face alit with a smile for the Ravenclaw. Yellow, startled, fled into Luna's hair.

"Oh dear, did I frighten your fairy friend there?" Madam Pomfrey asked in concern. She peered awkwardly around to try and catch a glimpse of Yellow. "Where's she gone?"

"She's in my hair," Luna told the nursewitch.

Madam Pomfrey seemed uncertain, and her smile had lost some of its carefully practised radiance. "Just be careful, will you? Wild creatures, fairies. They bite, you know."

Luna nodded. "Can I get up?" She asked.

Madam Pomfrey gave her a once-over and said, "Well, you look fine. How do you feel- any dizziness?"

"No," Luna replied. She decided not to mention she had a gap in her memories. "I'm fine."  
Madam Pomfrey beamed. "Then you're free to go! But any funny feelings..." The warning was evident.  
"I'll come straight back," the Ravenclaw promised. With relief, she rose from the bed, conscientiously straightening the duvet. Yellow swooped out from her hair as soon as Madam Pomfrey had left, and had landed next to the chocolates. The fairy put her hands on the box, staring in awe at the pictures of the chocolate printed on the front.

Luna laughed. "Have one," she offered, and unwrapped an orange cream for Yellow. The fairy took it and nibbled it cautiously. Her little face split into an ecstatic smile.

-_love!- _the fairy chirruped.

"I know," the blond girl understood. "I love chocolate too."

Picking up the box with Yellow stubbornly clinging on in the empty dip where the chocolate she had just eaten had been, Luna stretched. She took her folded and washed Hogwarts robes and drew the curtains around the bed. She changed quickly, relishing the crisp ironed state of her clean robes. Noticing a small rip in her sleeve had been mended, Luna smiled.

Affixing her Ravenclaw tie, Luna drew back the curtains. She left the hospital nightgown on the bed.

-_soft sad brave broken- _Yellow whispered, her minute, beautiful face losing all joy as the little fairy stared towards a bed at the end of the Wing.

Luna looked over, and swallowed. Tears pricked her eyes and shame coiled in her heart. _I could have prevented what happened to you, _she thought, _I'm so sorry. _

She could imagine the wintry body sitting up, the ghost white eyelids parting to reveal black pits of polished jet, narrowed with accusation. _"Not good enough," _the remains of the Gryffindor Princess would hiss, _"You could have saved me, but you didn't. Not good enough."_

Not good enough.

"I'm sorry!" Luna whispered again, her voice rising. "I'm sorry!"

Yellow tugged on Luna's ear. –_ Soft sad brave broken! – _The fairy whispered. –_ Tainted sleeping gone! –_

"What do you mean?" Luna asked her, but the fairy refused to answer.

The Ravenclaw wanted to go over and speak to Hermione's motionless comatose body personally but Madam Pomfrey was standing guardedly next to her patient, threatening Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who were refusing to move from Hermione's bedside.

"You have lessons to attend, young man!" Madam Pomfrey reminded him sternly, "Now go to them!"  
"No," Harry murmured, "I'm not leaving."

"Neither am I!" Ron flared fiercely.

Although Luna agreed with Harry and Ron, and knew she wanted to stay with Hermione herself, she pitied Madam Pomfrey, who was rapidly losing all patience with everything and everyone. Hermione did not need a guard to watch over her as she slept, she needed her friends to find out ways to break the curse _he _had put on her.

She was certain it was _him. _The story was painfully obvious. Hermione had gone to confront him after finding out the truth about his vampirism. And of course Harry and Ron wouldn't listen to her; they would just disregard her theory, so she would go alone. He would try to stop her with mind games, but she would prevail, and she would certify her claim by casting a spell of some sort at him. He would be furious, and take her out of the school, and curse her, to drive the point solidly home.

It was simple. Simple, but deadly, because it had worked, and Hermione would perhaps never wake up again.

_My fault, _she thought. _It's my fault. I should have warned you. Gave you some sort of protection. I knew my necklace wouldn't work against him, but he made me promise not to reveal what I knew. And I was loyal to a monster rather than my own friend! _ She felt sick.

_-Soft sad brave broken_- Yellow buzzed again, _- Tainted sleeping deep Cursed_! –

"Yes," Luna acknowledged the fairy sadly. "Yes, sleeping deep in a Curse."

She headed over to help Madam Pomfrey. Harry did not even look up as she stopped beside them.

"Not you too, madam!" Madam Pomfrey snapped.

"Come on Harry," Luna urged softly, ignoring the flustered nursewitch, "Hermione isn't going to get better by you glaring at her."

"You make it sound as if she's just got a cold!" Ron said venomously.

"You make it sound as if she's dead!" Luna shouted. Her harsh reply shocked all four of them with the perilously, terrifyingly close possibility.

"Leave her," she urged the boys quietly. She closed her eyes briefly to stifle the guilty tears that threatened to streak down her cheeks at the sight of Hermione's lifeless, immobile, accusing face. Harry and Ron couldn't possibly know that it was due to Luna's indiscretion, Luna's mistake, for which Hermione was suffering. _He _always liked to have his puppets well and truly stringed.

Mechanically, Harry rose. He followed Luna, not once glancing back to his fallen friend. Ron stared at him with confusion, but trailed after him, obediently doglike, as ever.

Yellow had hidden herself in Luna's long golden hair, the Ravenclaw could feel the fairy gripping her earlobe tightly. The fairy was buzzing, but too quietly and lowly for Luna to make out any words rather than an annoying hum in her ear. When she spoke to someone, the hum was distracting.

"Everyone seems to think 'Mione was attacked by a vampire," Ron remarked, "But there aren't any bitemarks or anything on her."

"Oh, _everyone _knows vampires have special saliva," Luna said in surprise. Vampires had been featured in an article in the Quibbler only a few weeks ago.

"Ew," said Ron, "You mean she was spat on?"  
"They have glands that can alternatively produce an extremely effective congealent that would seal up almost any cut in a matter of seconds, and one that will make blood flow very fast," she explained.

Harry gave her a sideways look. "You sound like 'Mione," he joked. "What textbook?"

Luna smiled dreamily. "The Book of Blood."

"Imaginative," Ron commented.

Harry's lips twitched. The Gryffindor's amusement looked half-hearted, and there was still the sense of dragging, spiralling depression that threatened to engulf him, but Luna felt safer that the Boy-Who-Lived wouldn't throw away the life he had miraculously kept.

Luna blinked as the prickling in her eyes endangered her to hot shameful tears. She pushed back a lock of her golden hair, and tried to think.

Hermione had to be saved. Luna couldn't let her die. If it was _him _that had done it...

Luna swallowed. Her stomach flipped and bile clawed at her throat at the thought.

Then she would have to confront him. But he would want something in return...

_He _never did anything for free, it was against his nature. And what his nature wanted was-

Well, blood.

**((()))**

She stared down at the great dark Lake, so tranquil and undisturbed, so black as if to be spilt ink. The moon shimmered like a wavy drawing by a kid with a wax crayon; tiny wavelets caused never ending ripples across the calm surface. A light breeze swirled around her, cooling her face and running insubstantial fingers through her hair.

The night air smelled clear, fresh, and very cold. Her breath made ghostly pale puffs. A chill of goosebumps ran up her arm, and she shivered. The cold stone of the Astrology tower sapped at her warmth, the ancient stone hummed with magic under her fingertips.

She tipped her head back, feeling her hair brush against her back. Warm arms wrapped around her waist and she leaned into his embrace with a smile. The boy grinned down at her, his sharp teeth flashing like diamond daggers implanted in ruby gums.

"You're a goddess," he whispered, and she felt a smirk curve her lips.

"Of course I am," she stated arrogantly, "I'm perfect."

An answering smirk for her. "Oh really?" he teased.

She turned in his arms, her arms winding sensuously around his neck. She bit her lip, feeling her own sharp teeth drag over the delicate skin of her bruised lips.

"Really," Hermione murmured, and kissed him.

**((()))**

Black. Unyeilding black that he wore like a diamond onyx shield a cloak of hardened raven feathers hiding him to lurk unseen. Black like ink on a page, the smooth glide of a fountain pen across smooth swan white paper, the invariable flicks of the ink splashing from the nib. Black the shadows that sheathed his pale bladelike form. Black his lips were dyed by shadows, barely visible making the touch of bright shocking white so startling. Black the heavy cloth blinding her, permitting her to glimpse only the shifting shady world he used to draw as a grey curtain to conceal himself behind hardly.

But a softer black the curve of his knee, visible only by the way it stuck out from the formless shape lounge on the forbidding tree, a tree she could see from its harsh bark and spikes would not receive her should she try and climb it. But trees in the Forbidden Forest were not always as they seemed.

The sun had no place in the dark, and she felt its warmth vanish, leaving an unnatural chill. The shadows snarled. _Intruder. _Their cool embrace pickled and ripped like tiny claws over her skin.

"Miss Lovegood," came that ever-soft dulcet voice, "I would have thought you would have learned to stay away by now." It was tinted by the wicked serrated edge of dry humour.

Luna shivered and drew her robes tighter. "What did you do to Hermione?" she asked bluntly, coming straight to the point.

She saw his teeth flash as he threw his head back and laughed. An involuntary shudder crawled up her spine. Yellow had disappeared as soon as she had entered his presence. The fairies still hated the vampire.

Not that Luna didn't.

"Why should I tell you?" he drawled. "You'll just revive her and cause more trouble."

"She's innocent!" Luna protested.

That dark laugh again, and he dropped out of the tree. "And you're not...Miss Lovegood?"

A hot blush warmed her cheeks. "What do you mean?" she demanded.

"Interesting that you chose to confront me in the shadows..." the vampire hissed softly. "Who are you to walk with the vampires, child?"  
"Stop it!" Luna cried, backing away from where the voice had originated. She could see nothing in the shifting darkness. Her back hit something as cold as ice, and steel bands wrapped around her forearms. Biting her lip, Luna felt hot tears prick her eyes.

"Jusst give up," he coaxed gently.

"No," she said weakly, shaking her head as dizziness overwhelmed her, "No."

As if she had passed a test, he uttered a harsh bark of laughter and drew away. "My, my, are we determined, Miss Lovegood. You remind me of Miss Granger."

"What did you do to her?" Luna demanded.

"Nothing," he chuckled, "Nothing at all. It was all her."

"What?"

"Look in the mirror, Luna..."

"What? What mirror? What are you talking about?" Luna shouted, half-stepping forward, but there was no answer. She glanced around at the shadows clinging to the trees, and knew in her heart she was alone.

Yellow reappeared out of nowhere next to her with a _pop _and a sprinkle of glitter. Luna jumped, and screamed, her nerves on edge from her encounter with the vampire.

Yellow looked at her with grave jade eyes. _– Mirror portal open dark- _she whispered, _- softsadbravebroken hurts-_

"What do you mean?" Luna asked the fairy, but Yellow shook her tiny head.

_Look in the mirror, Luna..._


	6. The Kradrorrimeht

_I must be insane._

Luna stared at the flat, shiny surface of the mirror, no, at the girl in the mirror.

Her eyebrows were furrowed just the slightest, and her huge blue eyes, soft and dark, so easily interpreted as dreamy, looked unnaturally serious in her moon-pale face. Her lips unconsciously had pressed themselves into a line. There were deep, bruise like shadows underneath her worried azure eyes. Around her head like a mane of molten fiery gold, her hair fell, shielding her from the world, a stray strand brushing softly, tickling, against her cheek. The usually pristine white collar of the shirt students wore under their school robes was slightly grey from dirt and creased.

She looked like she was hiding a secret. She looked scared and worried and thoroughly unable to deal with it all. She looked like she wanted to give up and give in.

But most of all, she looked like a schoolgirl trying to play in a game designed for people far older and wiser than her.

_You are insane, my honey, _a small voice inside of her agreed silkily. _Very insane. Why are you even bothering to stand up for her, anyway? She's probably happier under the vampire's curse. Like you would be..._the voice trailed off naughtily, rousing thoughts Luna would rather avoid.

_No, _Luna replied firmly, _that's just..._

_Oh, don't be such a coward, _the voice sighed, _and admit it, honey...Where's the shame in admitting you'd rather be under a vampiric spell than forced to deal with it all on your own?_

_That _is _the coward's path,_ Luna repeated, and tried to ignore the voice.

_Why do they always try and ignore me? _The voice asked in annoyance. _Luna, listening to your dark side is a great self-preservation. _

_You're my dark side? Since when has it been good self-preservation? _The Voice's words made Luna only more determined to ignore her.

_Well, Hermione's still alive, isn't she? Bet she listened to her dark side, _the Voice sniffed.

_Barely! I'd rather not spend the rest of my days in a coma! _Luna argued, and remembered her quest. She focused her attention on staring at the mirror.

It was an ordinary mirror. Grubby round the edges. A swearword or two written in the corner. The sink below it was crusted with grime. No one came into this girl's bathroom, not after Harry Potter had discovered it led to the Chamber of Secrets and Moaning Myrtle had taken up residence within it. The ghost was taunting Luna, but the Ravenclaw ignored her stoutly.

He had told her to look in the mirror.

_I would like to question why on earth you think it would be a _good _idea to do what the homicidal maniac says... _the Voice said.

"Shut up." Luna hissed venomously.

_I would also like to question why all good people are immensely stupid..._The Voice continued in a bored sounding way, _why would you think anything would happen with a nonmagical mirror?_

Luna paused. Though she already hated it, the Voice had a point.

_I maintain all 'lightsiders' are dumbasses. _

The Ravenclaw was loathe to listen to the Voice. Especially since the Voice had told the young witch she was basically her own dark side. In spite of the Voice's assurances, Luna knew listening to your evil side was not going anywhere good.

_Evil...? Where did you get that from? _The Voice protested. _There is no good and evil, my dear, only power and those who are too weak to use it! I am the side that is not afraid to do what needs to be done. _The Voice paused. _I think I sound like Voldemort._

_That just proves you're evil, if you sound like Voldemort, _Luna decided.

_It is worrying if your inner voice starts quoting the Dark Lord, _the Voice agreed, _but that doesn't mean I'm evil. Look at Hermione. She quotes all sorts of things all the time. _The Voice trailed off, evidently remembering Hermione was not a good example or argument on why Luna should listen. _I didn't say that, honey. I was pausing to try and make you remember something she'd quoted...But you never pay attention, Luna Lovegood. _

Luna' s cheeks warmed. _I can't help it they never say anything interesting, _she groused.

_Hear, hear, _the Voice conceded. _It makes sense though. Even you having a nought-point brain could understand that, oui? _

_OK, _Luna gave in, _maybe you're right. It does make more sense to look in a magical mirror rather than an ordinary one. _

If the Voice had them, Luna would have been sure she would have rolled her eyes. _Of course I'm right, darling, _the Voice drawled patronisingly, _I'm not stupid, like you._

Shaking her head, Luna sighed. She could already tell that the Voice was likely to be insufferable. _Just my luck to get stuck hearing the nastiest voice around, _Luna thought self-pityingly.

_Oh really? You think _I'm _bad? You'd rather Professor Snape's? Or Voldemort's? _ The Voice pointed out.

Luna barely restrained a shudder. She had no wish to hear what Snape or Voldemort's dark sides prompted them to do.

_Stupid, _the Voice sang.

_Look, I am _not _stupid! _Luna protested, her short patience coming to an abrupt end, _Otherwise I would not be in Ravenclaw at all!_

_Where else would they put you? _The Voice asked, _not Gryffindor, you're a coward, not Slytherin, you're a trusting deadglow, not Hufflepuff. Actually, you'd probably be better off in the Drug House. There you could meet other weak, stupid weirdos just like you. _She laughed nastily in the back corner of Luna's mind.

_No one in Hufflepuff is on drugs! _Luna grabbed her bag off the grubby floor and slung it over one shoulder. She headed quickly for the door, checking this way and that to make sure Filch didn't catch her sneaking into the restricted bathroom.

The afternoon sunlight warmed her as she walked at a pace down the long, empty corridor, half-wondering where all the other students were. _In their common rooms, probably._

_Well, duh, _the Voice drawled. _Where else would they be- excepting the library- considering old Dumbdoor gave us today off from our classes because of what happened to 'Mione dear?_

Gritting her teeth, Luna corrected painstakingly, _Its Professor Dumbledore. Not 'old Dumbdoor'._

_Whatever, _the Voice said flippantly.

Luna wondered why she'd bothered. Clearly, her dark side was planning on being the most ignorant and annoying humanly possible.

_Where are you actually planning to go? _The Voice butted in.

_The library, _Luna sighed.

_Oh, now you're an idiot. _The Voice complained scathingly. _MAGIC. MIRROR. IN. HOGWARTS. You know, mirror _that will show you what you want?

_The Mirror of Erised? _

_Yes! _The Voice said with heavily sarcastic mental applause. _Give special a prize! _

_...But we're not allowed near the mirror of Erised. _Luna said. _I don't even know where it is._

She seemed to have rendered the Voice speechless. She spluttered helplessly about Luna's complete idiocy before managing to cry, _ROOM OF REQUIREMENT! WHAT DO YOU REQUIRE! MAGIC MIRROR! MAGIC MIRROR THAT WILL SHOW YOU WHAT YOU WANT! WHICH IS TO HEAL HERMIONE! For the love of doxies!_

_No need to shout, _Luna sniffed primly, a little pleased she had managed to thoroughly irritate the Voice.

_You shouldn't be pleased that you are so dense your very own dark side is disgusted to be associated with your stupidity, _the Voice replied with icy chill a Malfoy would have been proud of.

Deigning not to answer, the blonde hurried towards the blank space of wall which hid the Room of Requirement. She passed several lazy students wandering about the corridors and stopped a guilty looking first year with a Fanged Frisbee.

_You're no fun, _the Voice groused when Luna refused to 'confiscate' the Frisbee. _We could have thrown it in Charms tomorrow._

_No, _Luna thought back sternly, but she couldn't quite restrain a smile at the thought of Professor Flitwick dancing around on his short legs trying to reach the Fanged Frisbee.

The Voice 'smirked'. _I'll win you round eventually, _Luna's dark side promised.

_You know, _Luna remarked contemplatively, _you aren't really all that dark, for an evil side. _

The Ravenclaw could feel the Voice erupting into dry amusement. _How would you know? _She purred. _Honey, you hardly know yourself._

A little uneasy about the dark promise implicit behind the Voice's words, Luna bit her lip and felt a frown form. _What do you mean by that?_

The Voice sidestepped the question and parried with another- _Why didn't you know of me beforehand?_

The blonde conceded to the Voice's good question and tried to think for an answer. _Because you never showed up, _Luna ended up saying with honesty.

_True, _the Voice said. _Open your eyes, deadglow, _she added, _we're there._

_I know, _Luna snapped with some annoyance, because she had indeed been aware that they had arrived at their destination.

She closed her eyes and walked, back and forth, three times, picturing the mirror of Erised before her and expressing her desire to save Hermione. When she opened them again, the customary door had appeared before her.

_Well done, _the Voice drawled with obvious sarcasm. _Come on then, special. Don't wait for the door to disappear._

Luna rolled her eyes and slipped inside.

She gasped.

The Room had transformed into an enormous hall, with huge stain glass windows dying the patches of light against the cold marble floor deep blood red. Pillars with snarling serpents and cowering lions twisting round them rose high up to join in the crenulated ceiling. A magnificent altar made of flat black onyx stood ominously in the very centre of the room. It reminded Luna freakishly of when she had found Hermione, lying discarded and broken on the stone slab in the Forbidden Forest. Pushed up against the sides of the hall were countless empty varnished black coffins, their lids laid to carefully one side.

It was gruesomely macabre in its promise.

But at the very back of the hall was the very thing Luna had come to see. The mirror's surface rippled like water.

Skirting the altar, Luna approached it cautiously. She knew immediately this was not the mirror of Erised. The Voice was humming, practically crooning with joy at the dark taint in this room.

The frame was made of carved black wood portraying two ram horned snakes intertwined. Around the top marched the runes, _ T._

"Kradrorrimeht," Luna whispered softly.

_Closer, _the Voice begged, _closer!_

As if entranced, the Ravenclaw began to walk towards the huge, foreboding mirror. She paused directly in front of it, her dreamy blue eyes fogged with some enchantment unbeknownst.

Anyone watching her would have observed in surprise and concern how the girl reached forward and calmly touched the mirror, her head falling limply back, her eyes darkening with each second that passed her hand touched the mirror's cool surface.

A discolouration spread from her fingertips onto the clear mirror, which had reflected nothing, and formed itself into a hand. Then an arm, the curve of a shoulder, the long elegant stroke of a neck, defined line of a jaw, waving wispiness of hair, until a girl stood facing Luna in the mirror.

The watcher would have perhaps jumped, or at least raced forwards in an attempt to rip the bewitched girl from her contemplation, as Luna stared in horror and no little innocent confusion at the smirking demon in the Kradrorrimeht. The girl in the mirror leaned forward and breathed gently on the rippling glass.

Luna's eyes widened even further, and she tried to pull away, but her fingertips were anchored against the cold, yielding surface of the Kradrorrimeht. Slowly, with a proper touch of fiendish glee, the reflection began to write on the Kradrorrimeht's surface.

_LLEH OT EMOCLEW_

"Welcome to hell," Luna repeated.

The reflection nodded, grinned a slow, terrible smile filled with sharp, fanged teeth, reached forward-

And pulled Luna Lovegood into the world beyond the mirror.

***hides under a rock* No, no, maybe if I hide they won't guess it's me writing such a terrible mess...**

**Hermione- You deserve it!**

**No I don't! No one deserves to write so terribly as me!**

**Luna- It's karma, Unique.**


	7. Beyond The Mirror

**I apologise for nothing much going on in this chapter apart from the introduction of not- Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Ginny. Oh yeah, and not-Draco.**

**WARNING, SWEARING INVOLVED**

_Chapter Seven, Beyond The Kradrorrimeht_

"No."

"You must see sense!"

"No."

"But-"  
"No."

"Why are you being so obstinate?"

"The answer remains no."

"Think about-"

"_The answer is still NO!"_

"Why-"

"No!"

"...Not even for her?"

"...Don't talk to me about _her._"

"She would want you to help with everything you have."

"No. She wouldn't." The answer was flat and harsh.

(((()))

She landed with a heavy _thump. _Tears sprang up in her eyes and she was unable to stop herself from yelping. She blinked back the blurry prickling and looked around.

_Where the hell am I?_

The Kradrorrimeht had dumped her in an exact replica of the hall the Room of Requirement had transformed into. It was lit by tall, arched windows glassed with stained crimson, which sent bloody red shafts to the floor, the dust within them sparkling like powdered gold, ironically Gryffindor. The floor itself- quite solid, as her sore body reminded her- was icily cold against her bare palms pressed against it. Swirling cream and brown spirals patterned it in a smooth polish of fine quality marble. The sculpted ceiling was cathedral-esque in appearance, the soaring pillars carved with superior snakes with ravens atop their heads rearing over ferocious lions roaring, their cry forever frozen in cold stone. The threatening black altar in the center of the room seemed to suck light like hope a dementor. Its surface radiated chill, warning all those who would approach it with the unspoken danger of its purpose.

_But what purpose? _Luna wondered.

She turned around and stared up at the forbidding Kradrorrimeht. It looked just the same, aged ebony dark wood knotted with twisting snakes caught mid-lunge, their fangs bared. But the mirror's surface was undisturbed and smooth, and when she pressed her knuckles against it and rapped it firmly the portal remained unresponsive. Not so much as it had been when she had first seen it, its yielding surface rippling like water.

She shivered; an electric chill racing up her spine. Her gasp was quiet and caught in her throat as she stared at the Kradrorrimeht.

She could see through it. Through it- to the other side.

Her body was there, lying abandoned, her face turned towards the mirror. Her eyes were closed, and her face was slack. Her skin was as pale as death and her long golden blond hair seemed unnaturally summery yellow against her paleness. The other Luna was breathing, but when she cried out to her, she did not move. Could she even hear her through the glass of the Kradrorrimeht?

"Hey!" the Ravenclaw shouted. "Hey! Wake up!"

Something clacked against the mirror.

Luna jumped back, eyeing the Kradrorrimeht suspiciously. Nothing happened. The mirror's barrier surface remained annoyingly unruffled. Cautiously, she stepped forward and hit the mirror's surface, curling her hand into a fist.

Her knuckles stung from the force of her punch, but her nails digging into her palms were more painful. Surprised, she glanced down at them and gasped. No longer were her nails short, chewed a bit, but still neat, perfectly _human _nails. No, now they were long, razor sharp claws that reminded her of a cat's.

_Claws. _Claws. She had _claws._

"Dear doxies," Luna whispered. Her hands flew to her face, and felt under her lip. Oh Merlin. What had happened to her _teeth?_

She felt her face, felt the skin tightly over her bones. Her skin felt unnaturally tight against her bones, there was little flesh there at all. Her eyes, her eyes were huge, almost twice the size they had been before.

_What the hell happened to me? _

The Kradrorrimeht wasn't opening, she was stuck here. The best she could do was trying to search for a different way out.

_This isn't helping Hermione, _Luna thought. Guilt stabbed at her heart. She paused for a moment, and abruptly realised she was alone.

Loneliness suddenly hit her hard. She was forced to blink back tears for the second time in so soon. Yellow was gone- Luna had not seen the little fairy since she had confronted the vampire about Hermione. Even the annoying Voice was gone.

She held her head high and refused to cry. Half-closing her eyes, she smoothed her face into as much of a mask as she could- ignoring her own self-consciousness that suggested she looked more of an idiot than emotionless. Determinedly, she began to walk briskly towards the door at the end of the cathedral-esque hall, avoiding looking at the coffins at the side of the room and the large altar in the middle.

She struggled briefly with the heavy door, but finally she pushed it open and headed out into the corridor.

She stared around in shock.

This was not the corridor which she had entered the Room from. For instance the walls were much darker, as if they were in the Slytherin dungeons, and shadows clung to the ceiling, veiling it from view. Candles sputtered uneasily in small niches in the intricate stonework. The walls were a masterpiece of swirling eddies of stone. She guessed it must have taken a dedicated team of stonemasons, or three or four powerful wizards, to make this place if it was all like the hall and this corridor. Shadows secreted themselves wherever they could, like dark black pencil blots amid greys.

Her appraisal was broken by the sound of a soft voice.

"Just give in," she- for the voice was clearly female- coaxed seductively.

Luna jolted. Surely it couldn't be? But- no...

"What will you give me?" A lower voice, playful, asked.

A laugh that sent shivers down Luna's spine.

"Oh, you _know," _the woman purred softly.

_It couldn't be, _Luna thought with growing horror and confusion.

Was that...Draco? And 'Mione?

No. Hermione was still broken in the Hospital Wing. And even if she wasn't, she wiuldn't be talking with _him. _Not when she could be celebrating her victorious return with her friends.

Luna's heart ached at the involuntary reminder of her betrayal and failure to one of her few friends. And look how far rescuing she had got.

She took a breath and held it. Carefully, she peered around the corner.

Never a sight more horrific and twisted had Luna seen!

The breath whooshed out of her as if she had been kicked in the stomach by a thestral. She gaped, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Her body was as immobile as if she'd been Stupefied. If an enemy had come across her then, Luna would never have been able to defend herself.

It _was _Hermione...and it _was _Draco...

Her first coherent thought was that they'd been Imperiused.

Hermione Granger was sitting in an alcove etched into the wall, her head bowed forward, glossy ringlets hiding her face from Luna's view. In front of her knelt Draco Malfoy, his face upturned to look at hers, her hands cupping his face, her legs wrapped around his body.

"Do I now?" He questioned, but the way he said it made it clear they both knew what he was talking about.

"Why do we play this game, honey?" Hermione whispered in a purring, velvety seductive voice Luna had never heard her ever speak in.

And wasn't Hermione supposed to be in the Hospital Wing...?

_But I fell through the mirror, _she realised. _So clearly I'm in some sort of...different world._

She drew strength from the thought. It wasn't really 'Mione, it wasn't really Draco.

It didn't stop her from gagging when the two began to kiss.

"HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!" A voice shouted from the end of the corridor and Ginny stormed up to the pair.

Luna nearly wept with relief.

Then she saw Ginny's face.

She was as pale as snow and her eyes were as black as onyx. Her nails were claws, just like Luna's, and her teeth may as well have been fangs. Her features looked as if they had been drawn up and highlighted by a crazy artist. Her bones were sharp and defined through her white skin, and she was shockingly tall. Her huge oval black eyes were as hard as diamonds and as unforgiving as solid rock. The entire effect was incredibly unnervingly creepy.

Not-Hermione and not-Draco pulled apart. Luna barely restrained a yelp.

Like not-Ginny, not-Hermione's face was white, whiter than it had been in the Hospital Wing, and her skin was stretched tightly over her bones. She too was too tall, and her large, lamplike black eyes narrowed in a terrifying expression of annoyance. Not-Draco continued in the same theme as the girls, but his teeth were so long and sharp they actually formed genuine fangs that touched his bottom lip when he closed his mouth.

They looked freakish, alien, and strange. And in a wild, fey, unnatural way...shockingly attractive.

Just like the reflection that had pulled Luna into the Kradrorrimeht.

"What do you want, Weaselette?" not-Hermione snapped irritably.

Not-Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh, get over it Kitty, you're always interrupting me and Harry."

'Kitty' sniffed. "I do not! I wait for you to stop before I start yelling at you!" She protested.

Not-Ginny's sharp black eyes caught sight of Luna half-hiding behind the corner. "Hey, Loopy! Over here, you dreamy druggee!"  
Not-Hermione glanced up and saw Luna. "Hey Loopy," she greeted.

"Um..hi." Luna replied awkwardly.

"See," not-Hermione rounded on not-Ginny, "Loopy's nice enough to wait for a girl to finish before she butts in."

"If you and that snake shake the foundations any more," not-Ginny said firmly, "Then Strawgoh will fall down!"

_Strawgoh? _Luna wondered. Her brain jumped, collecting the dots. H.O.G.W.A.R.T.S. Strawgoh. _Of course._

"Just because you're jealous that Draco's _mine," _not-Hermione sang, looking up at not-Draco with adoration in her eyes. He wrapped a possessive arm around her waist and she leaned into his hold.

"Oh, Kitty, please," Not-Ginny rolled her eyes. "I have the Boy-Who-Got-Up-And-Seduced-Half-A-Dozen-Girls-In-His-First-Year."

"Half a dozen!" not-Hermione snickered. "_I'd _already seduced half the entire school by my second year," she boasted.

Not-Ginny sighed and look at Luna, shaking her head. "Yes Kitty," she drawled, "We all know that you are the Queen Slut of Strawgoh. _Anyway, _Harry sent me. He wanted to talk to you."

Not-Hermione raised her eyes heavenward and made a huge show of praying to the devil for patience. Luna shifted uncomfortably- even the mocking prayers were warped.

"Can't the Gryffindor lion get along without me for one second?" She asked rhetorically, and petted not-Draco's head. "Sorry, pet," she purred, and kissed him gently, "I'll see you when I see you."

Not-Draco nodded and wandered off.

Luna stared after the Slytherin, confused. Not once had he spoken up and he took not-Hermione's orders as law. His behaviour jarred with how she knew him to be.

Not that Hermione's didn't. Or Ginny's, for that matter.

Clearly, in whatever weird paradox she was in beyond the mirror, people were different from their usual selves. But just how much?

"Come on, Loopy," not-Ginny said peremptorily.

Dumbly, Luna followed her, half-wondering if she should speak up. If her behavior was different in this world...And if they should discover her, what would they do? There was no telling just how different these things that wore her friends' faces and spoke with their voices really were inside.

Not-Ginny and not-Hermione linked arms, and not-Hermione offered her spare arm to Luna. Hastily, Luna took it. She wasn't entirely sure if she was supposed to or not, Hermione had certainly never attempted to do so in the real world.

"Sooo..." not-Hermione began teasingly, glancing at Luna. "Loopy. _Neville." _She was clearly eager for a chance to discuss some good gossip.

Luna's cheeks reddened a little. "What?" she asked defensively.

Not-Ginny fanned herself with her spare hand. "_Neville Longbottom!" _she sighed.

"He's a catch," not-Hermione admitted with a sly grin.

Luna blinked. In normality, clumsy Neville would never be considered a catch except by Luna herself, who found herself drawn to the gentle Gryffindor. But as she was becoming increasingly aware, whatever strange place this was, things were different.

Luna instead opted for a small half-smile and an embarrassed shrug.

Not-Hermione laughed, her head thrown back, her beautiful ringlets flying, her sharp teeth gleaming, in a manic expression of humor Bellatrix Lestrange would have been better suited to wear. "Oh, Loopy," she said throatily, "Don't try me with that! So...Has he asked you out yet?"  
"What?" Luna asked, genuinely dumbfounded.

"Oh come on," not-Ginny drawled, "Girl, it's so obvious even Drugs can see it."

Luna was just about to ask who 'Drugs' was, but before she could, not-Hermione said, "You know, I've always found Ravenclaws to be a bit of a disappointment."

Not-Ginny glanced at her, and asked in a tone of sincere interest, "Why?"

"Well," not-Hermione began, readying herself to settle into a lecture in a manner that was familiar to Luna, "Ravenclaws are mostly nerds that have too much time on their hands. That's why they read _books." _She pronounced 'books' with the utmost disgust and hatred, so vehement Luna could not stop herself from jumping a little.

Hermione hating books?

That was just...wrong.

"But, occasionally, you meet a few ravens who spend their time reading the right kinds of books," not-Hermione grinned, her teeth flashing.

"Hufflepuffs are worse." Not-Ginny butted in, "Harry's always complaining about his Hufflepuffs being high."

His _Hufflepuffs? _Luna caught the possessive 'his' and wondered at it.

"Oh Lucifer, save me from Hufflepuffs," not-Hermione groaned. "Three quarters are so out of their face they can't do anything but grin. Now, Slytherins..." her complaint drifted off into another fanged smirk.

Not-Ginny sniffed. "Slytherins! Kitty, you need to rid yourselves of those snakes. They aren't good for you," she preached portentously.

Luna felt a small relief. At least Ginny's dislike of Slytherins had carried on.

"Better than most lions," not-Hermione shot back, "Most Gryffindors roar and bluster but when you get to it, it's actually the girl that does all the work. Sneaky snakes know their tricks."

"Slimy snakes!" Not-Ginny argued. "Slytherins spend their time raising ridiculous amounts through some dodgy plot or another and then spending it all on some harebrained scheme for house elf rights! You, Kitty, are much safer with a lion," she concluded with a firm stare.

Not-Hermione rolled her eyes and purred, "But what if I don't want to be safe, Weasel?"

"Then you'll end up with a million brats like my stupid mother," not-Ginny replied with scorn.

Not-Hermione shuddered delicately. "Ew, children."

As they talked, the three had been walking towards the Gryffindor Common Room. Now they paused outside and Luna noticed that the portrait hole was wide open.

"Won't the other Houses try and come in?" she questioned not-Hermione.

The other girl raised an eyebrow. "Of course. That's kind of the point, Loopy."

"But won't you get in trouble?" Luna asked before suddenly realising that was a stupid question to ask. Clearly, not-Hermione didn't give one about breaking the rules.

"Rules are made to be broken, and anyway, between me and the Lion we've got the entire school in our pocket," not-Hermione drawled, giving Luna a sidelong look as if wondering if she were stupid. "You taking that powder again, Loopy?"

"No," Luna hastened to say, smothering her irritation at the constant use of her cruel nickname, 'loopy Luna'.

Not-Ginny muttered something that may have been, "_Yeah, and in your pants."_

"There too," not-Hermione agreed amicably. "Come on, witch-bitches."

With that, the curly-haired Gryffindor clambered through the portrait hole in an elegant manner. Not-Ginny followed her, and checking no one was watching just in case, Luna awkwardly came in after.

What sight that met her eyes was certainly not what she had expected the noble common room of the brave lions of Hogwarts- Strawgoh- to look like.

The room was oval in shape, with a set of stairs leading off into the dormitories, two passageways going separate ways. The floor was carpeted in rich, deep red, the color of freshly spilled blood, and voluminous drapes of the same dark ruby hid the stone walls from view. Around the room were scattered plush lounging divans, upon which several people were lying, wrapped up in one another. But at the centrepiece, the coveted spot by the fire, was a long couch decorated not only in wine red but in ornate gold. Obviously it was the King's throne, and Luna could already guess who was laying on it.

In front of the couch Luna spotted a redhead bent furiously over his books, the only thing to bother studying or engaging in anything remotely scholarly in the twisted...place.

"The Lion of Gryffindor!" not-Hermione announced in a ringing, sarcastic voice. Luna followed her timidly, and her jaw dropped.

It was indeed Harry Potter, but not Harry Potter as she had ever seen him. The Boy-Who-Lived was shirtless, with not-Ginny now reclining on his lap. His eyes were black, blacker than obsidian, and his teeth were so long and sharp they rivalled _his. _His skin was tanned kind of color, and he was _not_ the skinny rake he always seemed to be. He smirked in a slow, seductive manner and his bright green eyes burned into Luna's as he did so. He knew full well the effect he had on them all and he was clearly enjoying it.

Luna's knees grew weak and she felt butterflies spiral in her stomach when not-Harry tore his flaming stare away from her own.

"Hey, Kitty-Cat," not-Harry greeted, and not-Hermione kissed his lips gently. Noncommittally, he stroked not-Ginny's fiery red hair.

Not-Hermione stretched out luxuriously on a couch next to not-Harry's and drawled softly, "So, what did you want, babes?"

Not-Harry rolled his eyes with a sigh and said, "Gotta drugs test tomorrow..." he began with a certain amount of pleading in his tone.

Luna awkwardly sat next to Ron on the floor. The redhead took no notice of her and continued to work furiously on whatever essay he was writing.

"_Harry," _not-Hermione whined. "You still owe me for Charms!"

"Well," not-Harry said defensively, "I can't help it none of the girls set tests recently! You know as soon as they do, I'll pay you back."

"Or," Ron interjected, "You could just study for the test." He looked up.

Luna bit back a sigh. She was becoming slightly more used to seeing the haunting changes in her friends' faces but it still came as a shock. Just like the others, not-Ron was pale and had long, pearly white, sharp teeth. His black eyes were narrowed in anger.

"Oh please!" Not-Hermione groaned, "Books are for nerds and uncool people. Ron baby, you know that. They're just so..." She flapped her hand, evidently searching for a word.

"Tedious?" not-Ron suggested, his black scowl never wavering, "Boring? Dull?"

"What does tedious even _mean?" _not-Harry complained.

"Speak in English, honey," not-Hermione sniffed.

"It is English!" Not-Ron snapped. "You are just more interested in sleeping wi-"

"Shut up Ron," not-Harry butted in, "You're boring me with the details of your pathetic life."

Not-Ron huffed, muttered something about how he wished he could _Avada _smug boys-who-lived, and returned to his books.

"Anyway," not-Harry looked back at not-Hermione, "Please, Kitty. You know Drugs hates me."  
"_Professor Snape," _not-Ron corrected absently, "is too insane to hate anyone, Harry."

Not-Hermione nodded. "He's got a point," she conceded, "A nerd he may be. Drugs is more cracked than a powdered mirror." She half-smirked.

"Please," not-Harry begged again, "I just need you to persuadehim to let us through on the test. I covered for you in that Transfiguration test."

Not-Hermione sighed, and closed her eyes, appearing to think. "Well, okay," she said after barely a moment, "I haven't been down to tell him he can let me through yet either, so I'll do that tonight...But," she raised a finger, forestalling not-Harry's toothy grin, "I want something in return."

"Kitty!" not-Harry whined.

"Lion!" she mimicked. "I want you to stop sending the Weaselette here to interrupt me when I'm with my snake."

Not-Ginny huffed.

The Gryffindor Lion sighed and agreed morosely. "I can't believe you're making your own friend pay for something you were going to do anyway."

Not-Hermione smirked. "Waste not, want not," she chimed in a sing-song voice.

Luna swallowed, forcing down the nausea. What was wrong with this place?

Correction.

_What was _right _with this place?_


	8. Falling Apart and Giving In

"You'll stay?" the unnaturally gorgeous caricature of the intelligent, forgiving creature that Luna had once been able to call Hermione Granger asked in a quiet voice that seemed almost...sad.

"Of course," the thin, tall, rapier-esque thing with the flaming red hair embraced the not-Hermione. "We'll be outside, won't we, Loopy?"

"Uh, yeah," Luna found herself saying inelegantly.

They were standing outside the huge, forbidding black door of the office that 'Drugs' seemed to use as a permanent residence whenever he wasn't teaching. Though if he ever taught was actually under question. The gloom that was prevalent amid the entire castle of Strawgoh was especially dark and cloying here, almost living, like a black shroud reaching up to strangle the invaders, rushing into their mouths to suffocate them. The one small candle that not-Hermione carried flickered uncertainly, the only dim light in the blackness.

Not-Hermione seemed reassured by not-Ginny's words. She drew in a breath and squared her shoulders, then smirked and said, "Meet ya'll on the other side, right witchbitches?"

"Say hi to old Lucy for me," Luna interjected with a faked sneer.

"Will do," not-Hermione chuckled, tossed her bronze-brown ringlets over her shoulder, and opened the door and slipped inside.

Luna stared after and could not resist asking worriedly, "She'll be OK?"  
Not-Ginny gave her a black-eyed stare. "You joking? Get a stretcher ready."

The other sounded so serious Luna believed her, until not-Ginny laughed nastily. "Loopy, your face. There's really no way to tell. Drugs is so goddamn insane one second he'd laugh with you, the next, all he wants is to watch you bleed out in unendurable agony on the floor. The man's completely unpredictable."

Not-Ginny slid down against the wall, setting the candle down in front of her. In the soft light, she looked drawn and white, like a corpse. Her huge, oval black eyes stared off into the gloom. Her thin face was hauntingly beautiful. Her sharp white teeth showed briefly as she sighed, her ruby red lips the colour of blood next to her pearly teeth. Her hair was like an untamed mane of molten copper. She was as pale as alabaster, and as still as a statue.

Luna hesitated. Her instinct told her to run screaming from not-Ginny. The shade was frightening. Everything about her screamed _corrupted, dark, evil, PREDATOR. _And Luna knew she was the prey.

The only thing saving her, she knew, from death or worse at the hands of the crazy others were her own rather shaky acting skills. She had to pretend to be just as evil as the rest of them until she could find a way out.

So, cautiously, she sat down beside not-Ginny.

"If he's so crazy," Luna said in a snappish voice, "Why is she attempting to convince him to let her off a damn _test?_"

"And Harry, too," not-Ginny added. The other looked at her, with a lazy smile. "She's got nine lives, that girl. And Pomfrey knows to expect Kitty the day before a potions test. Everyone knows that guy's nuts. I don't know why old Dumb-door keeps him on." She chuckled, her pointed teeth flashing. "Except for giggles at Halloween, when they finally go exhume him from the dungeon and force him to meet civilisation."

It amused Luna that Snape's psychotic dark side was just as sociable as his supposed 'light side'. Did he even have a good side?

"All the same, why would you risk it?" Luna asked with genuine bafflement. Snape on the other side of the Kradrorrimeht was about as friendly as a bear just out of hibernation, she had no wish to learn how he could be on this one.

Not-Ginny laughed again. It was an unkind laugh. "Kitty's a danger junkie, that's why she fraternizes with snakes."

Luna fell silent after that. She strained her ears to listen for any telltale sounds but she could hear nothing through the thick walls.

She examined her hands, slightly bored. They were as bone white as not-Ginny's, almost spidery in their length and bony thinness. In place of nails, she had long, razor sharp, delicate claws. There was no flesh to her body, Luna could see the shapes of her own bones through her white skin and her clothes were much smaller than they would have been. Despite her skinniness, her bust and hips were overly pronounced.

"Worst comes to worst," not-Ginny said finally, "We'll have to carry her up to the Hospital Wing. That happened once. Drugs went crazy. Again. 'Pparently, she said something about flowers." Not-Ginny shook her head. "Flowers!"

"He isn't like the other professors," not-Ginny continued, "Try and _persuade_ him and he'll slash you to ribbons, say something out of line, and he'll slash you to ribbons, try and manipulate him, and he'll slash you to ribbons, say something that will make him react, and he'll slash you to ribbons, and you never know what makes him react. It's kind of like defusing a bomb. Only it never gets defused."

Worried, Luna bit her lip. Her sharp fangs sliced straight through the flesh. She hissed in pain and felt blood dribble down her chin. Not-Ginny's head snapped up and she stared through the half-gloom toward Luna.

"You're bleeding," the Other whispered softly.

"I know," Luna replied quietly. Her voice shook.

Not-Ginny's gaze slid away from Luna's bleeding lip, slick as oil. The shade licked her own ruby lips and murmured softly, "All the same, wish Draco was here. He ain't so crazy when the snakeling's 'round." Seeing Luna's confused look, not-Ginny explained, "Nickname. Baby-Draco. Kind of stuck."

"Oh."

Time seemed to drag. Luna wished she had a watch or clock of some sort, some way to measure the time that passed. In agony, she waited.

After what seemed aeons, the door finally moved. Stiffly, Luna followed not-Ginny in jumping to her feet.

The door barely opened, and a girl staggered out. Luna gasped.

Her hands were pressed tightly over her stomach, liquid black blood dribbling over her pale hands. The claw-slashes over her stomach wept, great gaping black mouths.

Hermione looked up with starved black eyes through her crazy, mussed hair and said, "Shit."

Then she passed out.

Not-Ginny cried out, her mouth opening hugely wide, revealing so many bestial teeth Luna jumped away from her, and lunged forward, impossibly quick. The redhead's form seemed to blur, she moved so fast, as she grasped her falling friend and stopped her from hitting the floor.

Peeling back not-Hermione's eyelids, not-Ginny stared into the black, unresponsive pupils and said softly, "Cruciatus. She needs Pomfrey."  
"He Crucio'ed her!" Luna gasped, and hurriedly helped to support not-Hermione, although she would much rather stay away from the wounded, pale girl.

Her blood was so..._black. _It seeped from her wounds at a steady pulse.

Not-Ginny nodded grimly, and wasted no time in tugging Luna along, carefully carrying not-Hermione between them. "Hurry," the fiery-haired demoness urged.

And they did. It seemed crazed to Luna, how fast they were hurrying, almost sprinting, with an unconscious girl, so light, as if she were a feather, her black blood leaving a liquid onyx trail of splattering droplets across the gleaming floors that seemed to revel in the hot splash of the sap from her veins against it's cold surface. When they met others, they hissed and shrank back, looking alien and fey in the half-light of sputtering candles.

Luna felt possessed, of a savagery she had little experienced. Seeing Hermione once more, pale-faced, dying, dying, dying, seemed to incite a ferocious passionate anger that had lain dormant within her for far too long. She felt her own magic snarling at the bounds of her control, hissing and whipping and ready to _hurt. _

_She wanted to kill._

She wanted to rip open the soft flesh of a human, feel the blood spray in the air, against her face, her hands, on her lips on her teeth, the warmth squishiness of the brain _pulping _in her clenching fists...

...that black blood, glinting in the light like molten devil's jewels...

And to dance, wild and free and unrestrained and irrevocably undone beneath the heady brightness of the white moon nestled a vampire's bite in black velvet studded with a thousand celestial dance fires, the flickering heat of those burning ravaging flames licking at her skin, _burning, burning..._

_..._that black, black blood, thick and fast, the sparkling jet, inky dark...

And they were there, and Madam Pomfrey was pushing her away, and Luna was hissing and snarling, and Ginny was purring and growling, and then-

"That's quite enough from all of you!"

A stinging pain slashed across Luna's face, and she yelped and sprang back, colliding with a strong, masculine chest. Blinking, she looked up- at Draco Malfoy.

Her heart seemed to freeze in shock and terror. He looked positively demonic from close-up, his jet eyes deep and liquid like ink, his white face paler than alabaster and smooth as milk, his blond hair, the light overhead gilding it moonlit, the pearly teeth, touching his ruby lip.

He inclined his head and set her politely on her feet. "Miss Lovegood," he greeted softly, with no trace of emotion in his impeccably courteous tone.

Luna blinked, knowing her eyes must be as huge and round as golfballs.It took her a brief moment to center herself.

Embarrassed, she pulled away from the Slytherin and his impossibly huge black eyes like pools of night-black lakes. She felt the touches of a blush. Luna was about to mentally thank God her blush was almost unnoticeable, but it clanged with a sense of wrongness in her mind. The flippant thanks made her unnerved.

_God has no place here, _she thought to herself, and surprised herself at the depth of thought and receiving emotion she felt from a trite Muggle phrase derived from much more serious origins. Luna was a witch, born and raised, and unlike Hermione was not particularly inclined to Muggle expletives. Yet...

"_Thank Lucifer for that!" _she remembered the Other's voice as clear as if she had just spoken.

_Thank the devil? _Luna wondered. _Is it right, to thank the devil?_

"Ennervate!" Madam Pomfrey's voice brought Luna sharply back to reality.

Hermione- _no! it wasn't 'Mione, not her at all- _awoke with a gasp, her black eyes wide and confused. She groaned in pain.

"You stupid girl," not-Pomfrey hissed with real venom. "Your life expectancy would be a lot longer if you stopped bothering the psychotic one."

"I know," not-Hermione managed to gasp as the mediwitch began to heal her, "Ow, ow, but I-"

"Just have an unhealthy fixation on the poor guy?" not-Ginny supplied dryly.

Not-Hermione winced. "Ouch! It's not- OW- unhealthy, it's just he was-"

"Yes, yes, we know, the only straight guy you _haven't _managed to get under your thumb," not-Ginny rolled her eyes. "Leave him alone, Kitty, he's mentally instable."

"And he is hooked on drugs," not-Draco added, stroking not-Hermione's forehead.

Under not-Pomfrey's wand, the wounds had begun to seal up frighteningly fast. Once they were gone, Luna helped her clean the blood off not-Hermione's skin and Transfigure her bloody clothing into clean ones. Then the mediwitch handed her a potion.

"You don't deserve this," she snapped, "Getting yourself Crucio'ed was your own fault and you should suffer," she continued in her placating bedside manner, "but here you go anyway."  
With relief, not-Hermione drank the proffered potion.

Colour rushed back into the girl's cheeks, and she sighed. Her bright black eyes glinted mischievously as she looked at not-Draco. "But what's life without risk?" Hermione asked.

((()))

"Hey, Hermione," Ron greeted softly, swallowing heavily. He looked down at his unconscious friend's lax, beautiful face, wintry white, and had to fight off a sudden welling of tears.

Ron rarely cried, but everything was falling apart. He felt as if someone had stretched him out and pounded him flat, he was so close to shattering. Harry refused to come near the Hospital Wing, though Ron didn't know why. He didn't know anything, damnit!

"You were the one who was supposed to know everything," he managed to whisper past the lump in his throat.

Harry was just so...insane. Ron had no idea what was so wrong with him. He'd sneaked out one night to see 'Mione in the Hospital Wing, come back sad and silent. Since then, he hadn't spoken to anyone but Ron, and even then short words and curt sentences. He spent his life in the library, researching, endlessly researching. If it weren't for Ron, he'd never go to lessons. He scorned trivial things like Quidditch, and eventually the unhappy Gryffindors got a new Seeker.

"What are you thinking, hey?" he asked quietly, staring at Hermione's closed eyes. "What are you dreaming?"

As if she heard his voice, Hermione stirred. Her eyelids fluttered and she sighed in discontent. "No, no, no..." she mumbled softly, her words slurred and run together.

Ron closed his eyes and concentrated on not crying, all but crushing the limp pallid hand of the girl he clasped. It was even worse when she spoke. Sometimes she thrashed around in the throes of a terrifying nightmare and the only thing that would help her would be Snape's soothing potions. Ron hated the git, but he was incredibly grateful to the potions master for easing her all too obvious pain.

His life was falling apart, and Ron was just about ready to do the same.

**There will be some actual action going on next chapter...I'm sorry this is just another filler...**


	9. The Mirror Dark

_Chapter 9_

Guiltily, Luna smiled at the girl- if she could be called that- in the bed. She knew it didn't reach her eyes. They, she knew, would remain huge, dark and tortured. Tortured, like the rest of her.

Breathing felt strange, her breath whistling between the gaps in her teeth- teeth that were sharp enough to kill with. Walking felt strange, with these long graceful legs she struggled to balance on. Talking felt strange, a lie in each breath, acting to save her skin.

A brutish part of Luna that seemed to wax stronger with every cursed second she spent in this half-world gloried in the sight of the obvious monstrosity of those around her. In the sight of the icy sculpture of ferocious dominant feminine beauty she would see when she looked into a mirror. In the sight of the darkness clustering at the edges of her vision. At the feelings of savagery and hatred that threatened to take hold of her.

But the rest of her, bruised and beaten and innocent and alone, cried out weakly at the true horror. That part was becoming very quickly trampled underneath the stronger Other.

That part still retained its control with stubborn persistence, and Luna was grateful.

"I need to go, OK, Kitty?" Luna said, uneasily trying out not-Ginny's nickname for not-Hermione. It felt strange in her mouth.

Blasé as ever, not-Hermione nodded and waved her hand airily. "Go, minion," she said in a ringing tone with a wink, "And leave thy stranded mistress in this horrible hospital bed whilst thee gallops off to chat up thy crush."

Luna felt her cheeks warm. "I'm not going to chat up my crush!" she yelped.

Not-Draco, who was perched on the end of the bed, interjected with a smooth, "And where else would you be going, Loopy?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Yeah," not-Hermione smirked, "Where else are you going, Loops?"

"I've got to do my nails again," Luna finally said weakly.

Incredibly, not-Hermione nodded, seemingly accepting that excuse. "Whatever, Loops...Leave, minion! Go paint thy nails!" Then she gave Luna a smirk that told her clearly that she didn't in fact believe her at all. And a wink to follow to tell her that she believed Luna was sneaking away to see her 'boyfriend'.

Luna rolled her eyes. "Shut up," she replied flippantly. She turned on her heel and walked away. She felt half absurdly self-conscious, wondering whether not-Hermione was watching her and evaluating her, adding up the clues in her mind that Luna was not who she said she was, that she was in fact an _imposter_...

_Don't think that, _Luna snapped to herself. She was just being negative. If she stayed confident, she stayed good, stayed in character, she'd be fine.

Luna shook her head at herself with a sigh. This castle was filled with wrackspurts, clearly. There were early nargles about...maybe someone had left mistletoe up?

_From last Christmas? _She disregarded the thought almost immediately. _Its early summer._

A thought hit her. _I wonder if the seasons are reversed, here too? _It was clear that was what had happened. She had fallen through a mirror, into an opposite version of the world on the other side. She needed to get back to the real world...and quickly.

Far too often she found herself wondering how she could know the difference between Reality and the Otherworld in which she was now in. Or was she? The lines were not clear-cut, and became blurrier with every passing day.

It had been two days in the mirror world. Two days and she was wondering about her friends' safety and scared out of her wits. Luna was disconnected from reality, many people argued, but this was too far. And unshakeably loyal to her friends as ever, Luna wished desperately for some way to warn them of this danger and hated seeing the monster behind their hearts. She found herself rapidly losing faith in humanity, it took everything she had to remember how life had been in true reality.

It did not take long for her to arrive at her destination- the library. Luna slipped quietly inside. She hated the depressing and oppressive dark that shadowed the gloomy corridors, it seemed to choke the happiness and spirit out of her soul. It was brighter lit in the library, warm spellight casting soft honey-coloured pools of light in between the huge, looming bookshelves.

It was insane. Completely different from the comfortable air of quiet order of the library beyond the Other, this library looked like it had been designed by Mr. Escher on a very, very bad day. Bookshelves leaned crazily against their fellows at impossible angles, and were made of an annoyingly discordant mismatch of wood. Books, clearly not sorted in any order at all, had been piled in towering, unstable stacks ready to topple at any moment.

There were very few people in the library. A few nerdy looking Others, no less frightening with their sharp teeth and liquid black eyes. Luna swallowed, tried not to imagine how _she _must look, and carefully avoided them.

She had no idea how to work through this mess of a library, so she covertly began scanning the stacks of books, hoping to appear as if she were just browsing. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw an Other boy lift his head, his white skin bright in the dark. "_Accio _Most Potente Potions," he said, and a thickly bound leather black book zoomed out of the dark pits of the shelves. He caught it.

Luna nodded to herself, and jerkily made her way over to the most deserted corner, arranged the beanbags carefully so she was the most out of sight, and began _accio'_ing as many books on magical mirrors and transportation into other worlds as she could.

She opened the first one, reverently stroking the cracking leather spine. She may not be as obsessive over books as the true Hermione but Luna respected age, wisdom and quality where it was due. The ink had faded a little with time, and she was glad for the magical lights overhead.

To her great annoyance, she realised that all the writing was backwards. She managed to decipher some of the spiky writing. She leafed through the heavy tome. There was plenty on magical mirrors, but it only mentioned one, the Mirror of Erised. Or, she thought to herself, the mirror of desire.

Inspiration struck her. Kradrorrimeht. Those had been the letters around the ebony frame of the mirror. But the writing was backwards in the Other...so what if KRADRORRIMEHT was too? She slapped herself on the head for not thinking of it sooner and quickly jotted the letters down on a piece of parchment.

Reordering them, Luna began to laugh. _The Mirror Dark._

Of course. The Mirror Dark, where everyone's personalities were unquestionably flipped and indisputably dark. The mirror of desire and the mirror dark. She wondered absently if there were any other mirrors...And why had the Mirror Dark shown up in the Room of Requirement?

_I wanted to save Hermione, _Luna remembered. _That was what I required...So why did the Mirror Dark appear? Unless..._

Luna found herself sinking deeper into the darker side of things with every passing day. Hermione's body had been found almost a full week ago. She remembered her own body, lying deserted on the other side of the mirror...pale as snow...unmoving...

Hermione was in the Other. But where was she?

A horrible thought wormed into her mind. What if not-Hermione was in fact purely Hermione, dark, twisted, tainted? What if she really was buried behind that slutty, insidious facade?

_What if she had already succumbed?_

((()))

_I require answers, _Harry thought, pacing up and down before the blank wall. _I want to know what happened to Hermione. And where Luna is, _he tacked on as an afterthought.

He had not seen the fey, dreamy girl at all for the last two days. The entire school was buzzing with rumours- that Luna had been attacked by the same creature, apparently a vampire, that had gotten Hermione, that she was probably lying in a ditch somewhere, blood drained.

Search parties had been sent out, but no body was found. Harry thought that obvious. They'd already uncovered one of the vampire's victims, why would it be so careless to leave one again?

He wished he could talk to Sirius. Sirius would have known what to do. But Sirius was dead, killed by Bellatrix's curse. What if it had been Voldemort? The Dark Lord had, absurdly, slipped everyone's mind in view of the current tragedy.

A short bark of bitter laughter escaped him. He opened the door that had appeared in the wall.

The door opened into a great hall, with sculpted monsters frozen forever in stone. Coffins lined the walls. A huge stone altar, black, was in the center of the room. A giant mirror dominated the back wall.

These were fleeting impressions stuck in Harry's brain, for the rest of him was much more concerned with something or someone else.

Luna.

Luna lay atop the altar, her hair glossy and pouring like molten gold across her shoulders. Her skin was white, beyond snow pale, and she lay immobile.

"LUNA!" His hoarse shout echoed harshly off the vaulted ceiling. He rushed to her side, his thudding ungraceful steps loud in the tomb-like silence. He reached her, and felt for a pulse at her wrist.

It was there, weak but steady.

He tried to wake her, but she would not move. He slapped her cheeks desperately. He didn't, he couldn't, lose another.

He closed his eyes, and felt a tear curve down his cheek. He had not known Luna that well, but her loss seemed shockingly real and painful, as painful as losing Hermione.

Who was this? Who was it taking his friends? Hatred, rage and a passionate thirst for revenge unfurled slowly like a waking dragon spreading it's nightmarish wings. Whoever it was, they would pay for it. Savage images of death danced in his mind. He imagined ripping out the throat of his faceless foe with his bare hands.

He opened his eyes, and looked up, mutely compelled.

A boy stared back. His eyes were black as jet and unholy fire burned within them. His skin was whiter than Luna's, and huge, pearly white teeth curved over his blood-red lip. Long, deadly sharp claws speared from his agile fingers. The Other smirked at him, and very deliberately, raised one foot-

_And stepped out of the mirror._

**Ah! Cliffhanger!**


	10. An Eavesdropper, A Book, And A Window

That night Harry crept into the Hospital Wing again.

The urge to see Hermione and Luna had grown ever stronger, but he knew he could not face them in company. So that night he had arisen from bed at midnight, covered himself with the Invisibility Cloak and crept through the chilly halls.

Normally he would have told both Ron and Hermione, and perhaps they'd cram together under the Cloak, and Hermione would constantly hiss at Ron _'stop breathing so loud, Ronald!' _and he'd snap back, _'are you trying to get us noticed, Hermione!' _However normally, Hermione wasn't the one they were creeping out to see lying stiff, pale and unmoving.

The distance between he and Ron had only grown. Ron spent his time hanging around with Seamus, whereas Harry found himself gravitating towards Neville. Neville had become as quiet and somber as Harry since Luna's body had been found only yesterday. But the gentle Gryffindor had not become so fuelled with rage and hatred as Harry.

_He is weak, _the boy that stalked next to him purred softly.

Harry glanced up at the Other. His skin was white and glowed eerily in the darkness. His huge, lamplike black eyes gleamed with a devilish fire as he looked at Harry. It was indisputably him, but as if an artist had drawn up and high-lighted his features. Two white teeth curved down from his upper lip, like a pair of fangs. He was dressed in a pair of grey slacks, and nothing else. His bare chest was inhumanly skinny, Harry could count his ribs. His bare feet were long and gracefully shaped, with long flexible toes as agile as his fingers. He was taller than Harry by a head, and impossibly lithe, as if he had been stretched. His black hair was artfully tousled.

"No he isn't," Harry whispered back.

The Other snorted, and his burning eyes lanced Harry straight through to his core. "Don't lie to me," he hissed, "I know, Harry...I always know." He sounded eerily like Lord Voldemort. Harry blinked.

The Boy-Who-Lived slipped through the door into the Hospital Wing. He was just about to shut the door when he realised suddenly he was not alone.

"Two, now?" someone demanded angrily.

A soft voice replied, "Hush, you could wake them." It sounded viciously sarcastic.

"Don't lie to me!" The first snapped. "For years we have allowed you to remain here-"

The second snorted.

"We have!" The first insisted. "In secrecy, understanding your position-"

"Do not lie," the second hissed, interrupting, "You use me to destroy or string those who oppose you. I removed these two because they knew."

"And yet you left Miss Lovegood for so long, when you knew she knew from her very first year," the first snapped, "I wonder, what did she offer you for your restraint?"

A very inhuman snarl. "Do not say something you will regret!" The threat was very real.

There was a long silence, and then the first speaker said, "You have to get them back."

"Why?" The other asked sharply.

"I didn't ask you to go after either of them."

"I enjoyed not being in Azkaban." The second said wryly. "I believe that may have fuelled my decision."

"Think what it is doing to us, people aren't trusting us. They think Hogwarts isn't safe, and they'll start pulling the children away." The first said earnestly.

The other snorted. "Let them go, then."

"Don't be ridiculous," the first asserted sternly. "The children need to be at Hogwarts. Just bring them back."

There was a pause, and then the second speaker sighed, "I will not bring them back. But I will help them."

"Thank you," the first replied, and though he sounded displeased, he also seemed genuinely grateful.

"If anyone is _listening,_" the sharp word was accented so thoroughly Harry had no trouble believing that the mysterious vampire knew he was there, "Would know that I do not deal with those who cross me kindly." It was naked, bare, an implicit threat.

Cautiously, Harry prepared himself and snuck forwards. He could see who had done it. Rage burned fierce and hot in his Gryffindor heart. But when he turned the corner, his wand raised, ready for a _Stupify,_

_..._there was no one there.

((()))

Luna meditated.

Her eyes were closed. She concentrated on her rhythmic breathing to the exclusion of all else, feeling her brow furrow into a slight frown as it always did when she closed her eyes to think. The ever so slight strain in her stretching muscles; it had been too long since she had last assumed the position- her legs crossed, knees pressed flat to the floor- that she used for mediation. She could feel a wisp of her still faintly damp long hair fluttering annoyingly ticklish in her face.

She could feel a slight breeze drifting in from the open window of her dormitory in Ravenclaw Tower lifting her hair and running cold hands over her face. She was grateful to the heavy school robes that kept her warm.

It had been too long since she had cleared her mind like this. She was certain that there were a lot of Wrackspurts in her immediate vicinity. She'd been so troubled recently- not that that wasn't entirely understandable. All the same, it was relief she practised the breathing techniques and cleansing that her mother had taught her before she passed away.

Of course, her peace was shattered.

"Good afternoon, Miss Lovegood. Is this a regular occurrence?" The silky tones were familiar, and Luna jumped out of her skin. Her eyes flew open and she was not proud to admit she squeaked embarrassingly high.

The vampire raised one eyebrow. He was crouching, perfectly at ease on the window ledge, his black robes flapping in the slight wind. He was as bone-pale as ever, but his form seemed sharp and defined, much more so than in reality. If she had ever thought Hermione, Harry, Ron and Ginny were frightening, they looked positively angelic compared to this monster.

His teeth were so long to have no doubt they were fangs, and in his eyes- black with hunger, he hadn't fed recently- danced with volatile insanity. He was gaunt, and his bones were sharp beneath his pale skin, but other than that, he looked much like he actually did in reality.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

He smirked and replied lightly, "Giving advice, being a Samaritan, all those other nauseatingly Hufflepuff qualities the world seems so fond of nowadays."

Luna could not stop her features from arranging into a disbelieving look and she snorted. "You. Charitable, kind, actually _caring _whether other people live or die..."

She thought he rolled his eyes, though it was hard to tell, because they were all black, even where the whites should be. "Don't insult me. However, I did not necessarily come here to debate the morals of society with you...have a present." He smiled charmingly, but in such a manner that left her terrified rather than assured.

Not so discreetly, she scrambled away from the grinning vampire, grasping her wand. "What do you mean?"

He took a parcel wrapped in brown paper and tossed it at her. She barely caught it, nearly dropping her own wand. "_Ooof, _what is this?" she asked in open curiosity.

He yawned and stood fluidly. She jumped back, but his only movement was to prowl to the bed nearest the window, examining the student's personal effects with interest.

She hesitated, wondering whether it was a cursed object. It wouldn't surprise her. His openly genial (yet dark, she could not imagine him to not be so) manner that had only ever been faintly creepy and unnerving, if not downright horrifically warped, macabre, terrifying and positively -as Ron would say- bat shit crazy. Contrary to even her own expectations she had managed to deduce much about his characteristics and blood-sucking, people-murdering 'quirks'. She did not understand him, but she knew enough- _well, she hoped to dear Merlin she did- _to stop herself from being brutally murdered.

She glanced sidelong at the vampire. He had stopped looking at people's stuff and was now stood statuesque, his rather large black eyes fixed unnervingly on her. He was completely still, she wasn't even sure if he was breathing. Despite herself, she jumped.

"Dear doxy, make some damn _noise," _she swore, glaring at the creepy vampire.

He smirked. It showed off far too many very _pointy _teeth for Luna's comfort. His onyx eyes glittered like Devil's jewels. "Open it."

Luna stared down at the innocent looking package once more, deciding...

Her thoughts were broken with an abrupt yelp as suddenly there were two hands on her shoulders. They were burning ice, so cold she felt her shoulders go numb even as hot pinpricks of the burns made themselves known. Tears sprang in her eyes and she bit in with effort a drawn-out hiss of pain. Doxy, it _hurt._

The vampire brushed her hair off her neck, leaving her vulnerable. She gulped. He laughed- she could feel his breath raising goosebumps on her skin. "Open it," he snarled again, his hands tightening painfully on her shoulders.

"_Ow, _I'm doing it!" she snapped back, and with one quick movement, shredded the wrapping to reveal a...

...book.

"There," he said pleasantly, stepping away from her. Luna nearly wept with relief and rolled her shoulders. _Ow. _Was that even natural?

Curious, she examined the book. It was pretty normal-looking, bound in heavy black leather, the front embossed with heavy runes. She squinted at them, hoping to decipher them.

SROR RIMFO KO OBEHT. Thebo ok ofmir rors. Oh yeah, the Book of Mirrors.

"Um...thanks?"

"Turn to page two-hundred." He said genially.

She did as he instructed. Predictably, all the writing was backwards.

"Here." She looked up just in time to catch a gleaming mirror as it was tossed at her- sadly, she dropped the book...

On her toe.

"OW, you-"

"Me what?"

"Erm..."

"That's what I thought. Now look at the writing in the mirror, you idiot."

Grumpily, and glowering, she held the mirror up so the book was reflected and peered into it. All the writing was reflected the _right _way up. "Figures," she muttered to herself.

Now she was able to decipher the writing, Luna read quickly and avidly.

_Worlds Beyond the Mirror_

_It is quite possible to fall through and become part of these six magical mirrorlands, though only those who are most attuned to their mirror of choice could do so. Often those who take to wandering the beautiful, terrible secrets beyond the mirror are lost, immeasurably fragmented, caught by the crystalline shards-_

Luna wondered when the book would stop waxing poetic and tell her how to _get out. _Ah, here it was...

_And only those with the greatest longings, the sternest spines, the strongest wills, would be able to resume their life Outside._

"Well, that's helpful." She muttered venomously.

"Indeed." The vampire said with some amusement. "I would suggest finding the mirror you fell through, the Mirror of Ssenkrad? Darkness...Good choice...If you had chosen Ytirup,Thgil, Ecneconni, whatever you want to call it, I wouldn't have been able to find you..."

"Why not?" Luna asked, interested.

He laughed bitterly. "Black soul, miss Lovegood...black soul. Anyway, I must be off." He smirked. "Blood to drink, people to kill, you know how it is."

And with that, he calmly jumped out of the window.

Unable to stop herself, she yelped and ran over to check there wasn't vampire spread messily all over the stone below. He was gone.

She didn't know whether to be relieved, hysterical, or confused.

On that faintly whimsical note, Luna heard a shriek from downstairs. "LOOPY! LOOOOPY! LOOOOOOOOPY! NEVVY WANTS YOOUU!"

Luna contemplated jumping out the window after him.

**Okay...what the Earth happened here...**


	11. Why Is Life So Complicated?

There was a strange sense of addiction to insanity. Insane people were hardly ever blamed. They didn't have the heavy weight of their friends' lives on their shoulders. They didn't have to hold that crushing responsibility, as if Atlas holding up the world on his shoulders, preventing it from crashing down.

Shattered.

Like her already flighty sense of realism- broken up and discarded like millions of razor-sharp pieces of glass. Clear they seemed until she tried to piece them back together; they turned murky grey and slipped through her bleeding fingers, the crimson droplets her sorrow.

She had read and reread the large, cracking tome gifted her by her shadow-shrouded visitor but still she could find to none clues on how to escape. Her only leads were, _"and the touch of reality shall bring home thy errant wanderer" _and _"through belief and diligence will the passage beyond the mirror be required". _

It detailed a lot on the six mirrors, the mirrors of Erised; Ecneconni, Ssenkrad, Dertah and Emit. The sixth magical mirror was _never _mentioned, only once. _"And of the sixth mirror, the greatest, the most powerful of them all, was hidden far away in a dark location to prevent those who would use it to gain the strongest and most unbeatable of powers." _Luna had no idea what this mirror _did, _as the book never told her its name. She had looked it up in the library, but she could find nothing on it.

Desire, Innocence, Darkness, Hatred, and Time were pretty easy to figure out.

The mirror of Erised showed someone, to quote,"_ I show not your face but your heart's desire." _Ecnenconni was innocence, light, everything pure and good in a person. It would 'show not your face but your hearts innocence'. Ssenkrad Luna had personal experience with. It showed someone their heart's darkness. She hated this mirror. She was certain that it would show up in the Dertah when she looked into it. The Dertah mirror, Hatred, showed someone their heart's hatred. And as for Emit, time...Emit showed someone their past, present and future. It was rumoured to be long lost- but then, so had the Ssenkrad, supposedly smashed by Merlin himself.

Rumour had it, the book had said, that someone standing looking into all six mirrors would go insane, for the mirrors would show him his entire being. Just thinking of such destructive power made Luna shudder.

With a sigh of frustration, Luna Lovegood pushed the book of mirrors away, tipping her head back and closing her eyes.

Warm sunlight bathed her in radiant light, and the sculpted sandstone was warm beneath her slim body. Red dyed her eyelids. Laziness dragged at her muscles, she had no inclination to move from her warm spot.

She was nestled in one of the many alcoves in Strawgoh, and before her the world was spread out like an unrolled map, the silver thread of the streams, the tasselled green treetops and the large, spiky hills rolling off into the distance, splashed with heather purple and dusky brown green. The air was fresh, sweet, and warm with the sunlight.

Luna was dressed in her Ravenclaw robes, but her tie was unknotted and her long, pale throat was left exposed to the heat. Her gorgeous silky blond hair was glinting in the sun like molten gold flowing over her shoulders, and her eyes like cloudy sapphires were obscured. Her skin was white, her bones distorted with the mirror's influence, and wicked claws shot from each thin, elegant hand, but there was such peace and rapture on the fey, dreamy girl's face she could not be construed as harmful in any sense.

Beside her, abandoned, was the thick, heavy book, adorned with swirling symbols embossed in the fine black leather. It was warm to the touch. On her other side was her schoolbag, undone, the spines of several books poking up. Each runic symbol was backwards, and each translated read _Mystical Mirages,_ _Magikk Mirurs, _or similar titles.

She thought, arranging her musings in precise rows like a master craftsman examining his tools.

Luna knew that she could get through the mirror.

She knew that to do so she would need the 'touch of reality' and 'belief and diligence'. She attempted to dissect the words. Well, the touch of reality...There was little that immediately sprang to mind, apart from her own body. Maybe that was it- was the book supposed to be interpreted in a literal sense? If so, she would only need to have her body in reality touching the mirror, and _believe _that she could get through it, and she would.

It seemed deceptively simple to Luna. But she remembered suddenly, with shocking clarity, her own journey through the mirror.

Dazed, and drugged almost, she had been drawn helplessly to the cool, rippling surface of the Ssenkrad. Before her the girl beckoned, placing her hand flat on the glass. And Luna had reached up, and put her palm over the twisted image of herself...then an almighty yank had sent her tumbling through the cool mirror. She remembered an unbearable coldness, icy splinters of glass fracturing in her minds eyes and as was blinded, deafened, desensitized all in one fragile touch. It had hurt, slashing, sharp pinpricks like the shards of the shattered mirrors stabbing into her and then-

She had been through, woken up, in a monstrous caricature of herself.

So surely, she could just do the same- in reverse?

Would the Ssenkrad give her up that easily? She hadn't even tried to find the mirror in the Room!

Laughing now at her own naiveté, Luna rolled up off the floor. She grabbed her bag and slung it over one shoulder.

So if that was the case, all she needed was to convince not-Hermione to follow her to the Room of Requirement and touch the mirror. But how to make sure that Hermione's body made it to the Room? She couldn't move it. Unless she somehow found some way of trapping not-Hermione...?

Luna snorted. Not-Hermione may be averse to books and learning, but Luna had seen plenty of demonstrations. She was no push-over when it came to hexes and curses.

When she reached the corridor at the end of which the Fat Lady resided behind which was the Gryffindor common room, she saw the once more the Fat Lady had been left open, the portrait hole gaping widely. Behind it she could hear the laughter and sounds of the constantly carousing Gryffindors.

Not that it was mostly Gryffindors- even as she watched Theodore Nott of Slytherin wandered out of the portrait hole. His shirt was wide open, his hair mussed, and his black eyes huge with excitement and there were trails of blood, scratches, and bitemarks on his pale skin. Luna blinked. She never quite got over how disconcerting it was to see the distorted images of her classmates.

Theo approached her, his lips drawing up over his teeth. "Loopy Lovegood," he hissed. Beyond the mirror, it made her sad when he said that. Now, it made her feel seductive and powerful.

"Hello Nott," she purred, stalking forwards, trailing one hand over his jaw as she passed. She glanced back over her shoulder and fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly with a tinkling laugh, and then ducked into the Gryffindor common room.

_I'm getting better at acting, _Luna thought to herself wryly. _That was a performance worthy of the Queen Slut herself._

Thinking of not-Hermione, Luna spotted her in the corner. Just as she watched, not-Draco drew back his fist, teeth drawn over to reveal his sharp white teeth- and punched Hermione in the face. The pale, beautiful girl hissed with pain, her ruby tongue flicking visibly between her fanged teeth, her lamplike eyes fixed on her lover's.

Luna blinked and stumbled. "What are you doing?" she snapped, marching over to the pair. Abuse, even if it was beyond the mirror, she could not watch her friends endure.

"Don't bother, Loopy," not-Harry drawled, catching her wrist. Taken off-balance, Luna was all too easy to yank into his arms.

She went as stiff as a plank.

Not-Harry chuckled lazily. He pressed his face into her neck, biting her sensitive skin gently, pulling it between his teeth. Luna shivered. "She likes it...don't ask me why," he purred. One hand crept up the back of her shirt, resting on her skin. She gulped. He smelled of leather, musk and freshly mown grass.

He trailed gentle nipping bites down her neck, breathing over her collarbone. Goosebumps raised on her skin, she bunched her fists in his shirt. Electricity pooled in her stomach, crackling liquid fire turning her blood red hot. She bit back a harsh sigh and fought the shuddering, twisting feeling inside of her. But she _wanted _to give up. The darkness he could give her...

"No," Luna whispered, and pulled back.

Not-Harry pouted. "My least favourite word."

She smirked at him, getting up smoothly- despite the fact she was a quivering mess inside.

She was getting really good at acting.

She had barely taken three steps when another arm wrapped around her waist, bringing her in close to a male chest. Internally she sighed, but externally she looked up with a smile.

"Hey Luna," Neville greeted her, his teeth flashing, his blue eyes sparkling.

"Oh, hey Neville," she replied.

"Where are you off to?"

"Quiz Hermione," she answered with a joking laugh.  
"Oh, come with me instead." Neville invited, grinning. "I wanted to go down to the Forest- see what plants I can find."

It seemed Neville's love of plants had survived the mirror.

"I can't-"

"Oh, come on," his eyes gleamed with avaricious hunger, "It'll be fun."

Luna wondered if there was no one Ssenkrad could not corrupt.

"Okay," she whispered. He smirked.

(())

Some hours later, Luna sat with a thump down on a tree stump.

She blinked with slight bemusement. The vampire watching her, reclining lazily in a tree, observed she seemed quite dazed. Her silky blond hair was ruffled and messed, and there were twigs caught in the snarls and knots. Her shirt was rumpled, the buttons mismatched, she was wearing one sock, but both her shoes were missing. There were several long, red scratches on her pale skin- scratches that beaded red and made his eyes darken and his mouth water with desire.

The sunlight was acutely painful for him. It did not burn him as it would vampires who hadn't fed in too long, or engulf him in flames, but it was very painful. The potions supplement he took as a replacement of the one exquisite pleasure of a vampire's long, cursed life filled some of his physical cravings enough to stop him going rabid- no more, no less.

Bleeding in front of him was quite disrespectful, in fact. He didn't really mind- his curiosity and his oath bound him tighter, relieving some of the burn of the sun and the sudden dryness in his throat, the familiar feeling in his two 'fangs' that informed him they had filled with venom- venom that as soon as it entered the bloodstream would release extreme endorphins into the victim's brain, completely halting all sensation of pain and causing the victim to often fall into a state of bliss. He had had firsthand experience both as victim and vampire.

That blasted sun was hot and strong in the sky, reaching noon. He welcomed the cool touch of the shadows in the twisting trunks of the forest he prowled.

"Well," he purred softly. "I must say, Miss Lovegood, I am impressed. It seems you might have been able to make Slytherin after all."

"Oh." Luna blinked at him, her huge, glimmering black eyes so corruptible and innocent. She didn't bother lying that she hadn't known he was there. "I'm not dark," she frowned.

He laughed at her. "Of course you are. Your soul has been tainted by the Ssenkrad, tainted by your own constant weakening of resolve. You just cast an Unforgiveable, and you appear to have lost the last form of innocence you had left just prior to that."

"That was a mistake!"

"Sleeping with him or _crucio'_ing him afterwards?"

Luna put her head in her hands and began to laugh bitterly. "You're a bad influence on me."

Her delicious scent- the blood, so close, was making his heart pound and he had to concentrate on not fainting from the overload of the glorious scent. He had dealt with blood before, but it had never been this bad, never had he starved himself for so long.

"Is it evil," Luna continued softly, "to actually want you to fly down from that tree and attack me?" She glanced up at him, but her eyes remained blank like onyx disks, gleaming flatly.

"No," he allowed in an even quieter tone, "That would be my hunger expressing itself..."

She half-smiled, half-smirked. "I would apologise but...you know, I can't just bring myself to care."

"I know," he assured her wryly.

She laughed at that.

On a more serious note, he examined her softly glowing skin with a slight amount of awe. He didn't understand it, but something had..._unlocked _within Luna the moment she had finally stained the last of her innocence. Her voice had gained an eerie, compelling quality.

"Do you know what happened to me?" she was referring to the large explosion of magic just after she had _crucio'_ed poor Mr Longbottom into running for his life back to the Castle and warn everyone off Loopy Lovegood- even Mr Nott.

"No," he said, which was the truth. He didn't. The vampire had been irresistibly lured to her side the moment the magic eruption had happened, her voice had woven unbreakable threads around his heart and mind, pulling him closer.

She gave him a sidelong look. "How come you are always here?"  
He cocked his head and tried to ignore the blood trailing down her arm.

"Well," she elaborated, blushing lightly, "Whenever I go into the Forest, you're there. Do you live here or something?"

"No," he replied, staring down at her. Suddenly, he swung down and landed neatly beside her. She flinched as he took her bleeding arm into his hands and drew his wand. Her bright, inquisitive black eyes looked expectantly up at him. For a brief moment he wondered if he should fulfil her unspoken question and take what he desperately craved.

"No," he repeated softly, and whispered a few healing and cleaning spells. The cuts vanished, leaving her skin smooth, pale and whole once more.

"Thanks," she said, but was there disappointment in her voice? He didn't really want to know.

"I am always here because frankly, when I am not attending to my duties," his teeth flashed as he smirked, "I have nothing else to do."

"What a way to tell me you've got no life," she chuckled jokingly.

He smirked again. "Literally," he drawled, pretending to brush his white hand across his face pale with lack of blood in a feminine manner. Luna had to choke back laughter.

"I'm sorry," she said, faux-sincerely, "I just don't think that you're catwalk material."

The vampire fluttered his eyelashes. "Was it the fangs that put you off?"

Luna smiled. The vampire, with a swish of shadows, leapt back into his tree. She sat heavily back down on the tree stump.

"Something happened, though," she mused reflectively, "When I cast that spell. Something changed. _I _changed."

He did not reply.

"Maybe I just need to try and find what's different," the blonde murmured, looking up at the vampire, to see him peering down at her intently, clearly listening.

"Your voice," he said finally in a quiet tone, "Is different." He seemed to struggle for words, something she rarely saw with the usually smooth-talking, impassive undead creature. "It is..." he cocked his head, "...difficult to ignore."

"What about it?" Luna asked him, interested.

He shrugged elegantly. "It is compelling."

"Oh," Luna said uncomfortably.

He nodded sharply, and rose to his feet. "Goodbye, Miss Lovegood," he bid her formally, and stepped into the shadows around the trunks of the trees.

Within seconds, he had disappeared.

Luna put her head in her hands.

"Why does life have to be so complicated?"


	12. Coming Back

_What a degenerate, _she thought, faintly.

She was watching not-Hermione crawling over some poor Ravenclaw that Luna didn't recognise. That did not perturb her, so many people were difficult to recognise beyond the mirror. Their faces didn't matter to her.

Not-Hermione had followed her back up to the castle after seeing Neville run like the hounds of hell were chasing him, then Luna, wide-eyed, clothes in a disarray, hair mussed- thoroughly confused. Like a hunting viper, she had pounced.

"_Loopy!" she had cried, her eyes shining with pride. "Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice had dropped, soft with hurt. _

"_I..." Luna couldn't speak. The strange, confusing power had not vanished with Neville's pained screams or the vampire's smooth words. _

"_Are you more of a private girl? So private you can't tell your best friend what you're up to?" The curly-haired girl had whispered. _

_Luna had felt disturbingly proud that the darkest most debased girl in Strawgoh considered Luna her best friend._

_In a daze, Luna had blearily recounted the day's events. Subconsciously she gripped not-Hermione's wrist when she came to the part concerning the vampire. Had she been in her right mind, she would have never spoken of him- she had never intended to reveal to the sad, broken down creature that had once been a heroic, smart girl she had known and loved that she knew and spoke with the same vampire that had attacked her. Not that Hermione would remember him anyway..._

_She hadn't realised she was dragging not-Hermione until she paused, half-waiting for the Other to oblige her with a mindless stream of chattering questions- Ohmyygod, you cruico'd Neville? Was it fun? Did he scream? Did he bite you? What was it like? What happened? Tell me everything! _

_Luna had glanced back when it didn't appear, and was shocked out of her numbness._

_Not-Hermione was standing, shaking, face as white as a sheet, black eyes glassy, the true, most deep expression of horrific terror and fear on her beautiful face._

"_No," Not-Hermione had mumbled, "no, no, no..." She was shaking her head, her eyes welling up with helpless tears._

"_Hermione?" Luna approached her friend cautiously. "...Kitty?" After some hesitation, she added the nickname._

"_Blood." Not-Hermione had whispered almost incoherently. "In his eyes. Blood."  
Horror clenched Luna's heart. "Did he drink from you?" she demanded roughly. She grasped Hermione's arm. "Did he?"_

_And Hermione had looked at her with glittering black eyes that did not belong in her face. Her lip had startlingly curled back over her teeth and she had hissed, reptilian, vampiric, alien. "Hatred," she muttered to herself. "he hated..." She shuddered helplessly, shaking and quivering. Suddenly she had propelled herself at Luna, hugging the Ravenclaw desperately._

"_Don't let him kill me," she had whimpered, "Don't! Don't!"_

_Then she had collapsed._

_The unexpected weight had forced Luna to drop her. She tried to pick her thin friend up, but not-Hermione was far heavier than she had thought. _

_She looked around, desperate for help. Not-Hermione was fitting, her head rolling, her eyes blank, white and staring, her lips forming vicious words.  
"...cold, white, so white, nurse, bitter, potion, no...no...Harry? Harry? Green, red, red, red, red, blood...Blood pouring down his head, blood, blood no, no, vampire, vampire, he's a vampire, run away, get out Harry, get out, he's a vampire..." Her frantic pleas to Harry would not stop._

"_Help!" Luna shouted, half-turning towards the Forbidden Forest. Would he come? Would he help?_

_There was no response from the dark trees. How did she know he could hear her?_

_Determination rose in Luna's heart. Hermione needed help. She could not be left alone..._

"**HELP ME!"**_ she had screeched._

_A low rumble reached her ears. She glanced back at the Forest- but all was still. Disappointed, Luna turned back to her friend. She could try levitating her, she thought slightly belatedly._

_The rumble grew louder. Luna looked around- just in time to see a herd of centaurs explode out of the forest, their coats gleaming with sweat, their magnificent charge heading the outpouring of creatures. They were led by a familiar dark creature in black, and behind them streamed thousands of Acromantulan, their grotesque bodies competing for place with the hugest spider Luna had ever seen, easily larger than even Hagrid. Birds, strange and magical, swooped alongside the flights of fairies, their sparkling bodies glittering like airborne jewels. Strange pale-faced humanoids with large oval eyes and strange, terrible, beautiful faces loping alongside unicorns tossing their silvery manes, ruled over by small dragons, blowing clouds of smoke, their forest emerald green bodies darting through the air like the impish demons darted through the thrashing coils of some great snake with freezing amber eyes and sharp, venom dripping fangs. Werewolves, their human faces bared in snarls of excitement, their feral frenzied eyes glinting with ferocity, a phoenix, shrieking high with its mournful lament. Then there were the ordinary animals, deer, the stags tossing their proud heads, bears, lumbering and slow, wolves, fleet and fast, squirrels, rabbits, even frogs, a menagerie of animals and creatures. From the Owlery peeled a great flock of flying owls, all different colours shapes and sizes._

_The great herd formed a thick circle around Luna. Only the fairies dared fly closer, their sweet faces twisted by the mirror. The vampire stepped forward, his dark eyes glinting with amusement, and said quite politely, "You called?"  
"What?" Luna whispered. "What- how?"  
"I think we discovered what's different about your voice," he said, grinning._

_A few of the centaurs snorted. A slow hum drifted down the ranks. _

_She attempted to muster the power she had had only seconds before. __**"Really?"**__ She blinked. __**"That is eerie. Can you all understand me?"**_

_The enormous snake dipped its head and touched hers gently. A doe blinked, her eyes large, liquid and dark. _Yes, _she said._

"_The gift of tongues," the vampire murmured, seemingly amused. _

_She had shot him a glare._

-speaker-seer-golden-dark- _a familiar looking fairy hummed._

_Luna blinked. __**"Yellow!"**_

"_If you don't mind," the vampire interrupted, "What exactly did you require assistance with?"_

_Suddenly feeling very foolish, Luna flushed. __**"I need to get this girl to the infirmary," **__she said. An overwhelming sense of weakness pounded in her temples._

"_Allow me," a soft-voiced centaur murmured. He had dark bay colouring and his eyes were kind. "I suspect a centaur would cause the least..."_

"_**Consternation..." **__A voice hissed, but Luna couldn't see who it was from._

"_**Okay," **__she said, __**"Err- Thank you."**_

_The centaur inclined his head. __**"Umm," **__she looked at the rest of the gathered creatures. __**"You can go now, if you want, thank you, er, sorry to bother you and everything."**_

_The same doe that had spoken earlier snorted. _It is no burden for the speaker.

"_**Okay," **__said Luna, "__**Thank you anyway..."**_

_To her profound relief, the creatures had started melding back into the forest. _

"_Maybe next time," the vampire said, "You could be a bit more specific?" Luna backed away as he moved towards her, but it didn't deter him. Easily he picked her up and began to carry her back to the castle. Flushing, Luna demanded, "Let me go!"_

_He raised one eyebrow. "You are fainting on your feet, Miss Lovegood. As clever as Mr Leyathial is," he inclined his head to the centaur, which was carrying Hermione's limp body, "He does not know the ways of Hogwarts castle."_

"_And you do?" she snapped. "I thought you lived in the forest?"  
He rolled his eyes. "Miss Lovegood, you are so incredibly naive."_

"_I am not!" she had protested._

_His teeth had gleamed rather alarmingly as his face contorted into a dark smirk. "How little you know of the world," he murmured, almost gently, shaking his head as if amused, his eyes glinting with sadism. "If I didn't know better..." a vicious quirk to his thin red lips, "I'd've thought you an innocent child, Miss Lovegood..."_

_Luna found herself hissing venomously. _

_His eyes gleamed brighter. "Good, child. Maybe one day...there is hope for you yet."_

_Hissing subsiding, Luna shook her head and snapped, "Like I would want to have hope if that is what I will become!"_

_He laughed. "Little Miss Lovegood," he mocked, "You already are...Try casting a Patronus when we return..."_

The vampire's disturbing words came back to her as she shook herself out of the memory.

She decided to try it. The vampire's warped advice didn't often steer her wrong- and why not?

She slipped quietly out of the common room, leaving Hermione to torment the Ravenclaw on her own. She headed quickly down the corridors, a dark scowl on her face, narrowly avoiding hexing sharp-faced Professor McGonagall when the elder witch attempted to murder Luna as she passed. She shook her head. Somehow it was immensely scary to see McGonagall like that- grey-streaked hair loose and tumbling around her bone-white face and a horrific snarl of fury contorting her stern features.

She just thanked God she hadn't met Professor Snape yet- if McGonagall and Hermione were scary...

Luna shuddered and tried not to think about it. She almost felt sorry for Slytherins here in the Otherworld. Thinking about Slytherins made her remember Draco Malfoy, and he made her think about the warped personalities of people here. Even the vampire had been slightly more open than before- he had spoken more words to her than she had ever heard him say in their short acquaintance.

Normal Draco didn't care at all about the plight of house elves, and Hermione was certainly not an avaricious slut, nor Ron a twisted mastermind who sneaked behind the Herbology greenhouses Hufflepuffs used as drug-growing-plants to _crucio _a sweet, gentle Pansy Parkinson.

_I wonder how my behaviour is affected here. _Luna thought dryly. She remembered snarling at the vampire and felt her lips curve cruelly into a feral smirk.

She prowled down the corridors, hissing at anyone who tried to engage her, heading straight for the seventh floor. She knew exactly where she wanted to go.

She paced up and down thrice, thinking of the Ssenkrad in her mind. Then she pushed open the heavy door that appeared and walked into the Room of Requirement.

Unbothered by the icy grandeur of the hall, she stalked straight for the mirror. Her body was gone. Someone must have found her, then. She tapped the glass, but it remained firm. So it did need contact on both sides.

Turning, she raised her wand and tried to summon happy thoughts. She remembered going to Honeydukes with Neville, the warmth of the sweet shop after the icy cold.

"_Expecto Patronem!"_

Nothing happened.

She tried another happy memory, and another, but there were no results. With a sudden burst of furious inspiration, she remembered using the Cruciatus curse on Neville.

"_EXPECTO PATRONEM!"_

A beautiful silver Patronus exploded out of the end of her wand. Luna stared after it, recognising its shape.

She burst out laughing.

((()))

"Madam Pomfrey," the vampire snarled irritably, "I will take them with me whether you accept it or not."

"No!" the mediwitch snapped back just as fiercely, her eyes bright with challenge, her wand outraised. "I won't let you take my patients! _Monster!"_

"We're back to name-calling, Poppy?" he raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "Very well. I am going to take them anyway."

"No!" she cried again. "Back! Back! I have some garlic around here, somewhere!"

He massaged his forehead wearily. "Poppy-"

"Don't you 'Poppy' me, young man!"

"I am not _young!" _He protested.

"Have you been taking your potions? You look more starved than usual." The mediwitch said concernedly, forcing him into a chair. "Sit! Sit! I'll get your potions..."

"No, I've had my damn potions, woman! I have my glamours down..." he snapped.

"You look terrible!" she cried. "Your eyes- can you even see?" She shone a torch in his eyes, and he blinked, hissing.

"Stop that!" He jerked back, blinking away the white spots behind his eyes. "I need to collect Ms Granger and Ms Lovegood! Now, get out of my way before I bite you!"

Ice froze in Pomfrey's eyes. "You wouldn't dare!" He didn't bother to acknowledge the truth of that statement- knowing Poppy, she'd have injected herself with garlic or something on purpose...

"How do you know?" he snarled, patience truly tested. "I have other things to do than being nagged by you, woman!"

"Aha!" Suddenly, she was shoving garlic at him. He shrieked and leapt back. Poppy grinned with triumphant satisfaction. "Fine," she said, "You can attend to them- after you've had your potions!"

"But-" he whined.

"No buts!" she ordered. "Sit!" She thrust several cold bottles in his hands. "Drink!"

Sighing, the vampire gave up and drank. He choked down the bitter, acrid potions, grimacing. He felt relief spread through him as the potions began to do their work. He felt colour return to his cheeks now.

"That's better," Madam Pomfrey said approvingly, "You look nearly human now."

"Even though I'm not," he muttered grumpily, and rose quickly. "I will be taking those two now."  
"Out of curiosity-"

"Classified," he snapped, immediately interpreting her question correctly.

She frowned. "But they're my patients-"

"And they won't come to any harm," he interrupted her again.

The mediwitch huffed, but did not bother trying to stop when he approached the two pale girls lying comatose on their beds.

He ignored the temptation and quickly negated all spells with a wave of his hand. Poppy gasped. "What are you doing?" He gave her a cold glare and did not answer.

He slung them, one over each shoulder, mockingly inclined his head to Poppy, and turned, his cloak flaring around him, the shadows literally reaching up to envelop him into their world.

He appeared in a huge hall and dragged two coffins out and put them beside the altar. He arranged the two students carefully in the coffins, and then slid the lid over the top.

As he straightened, he looked at the Mirror. Beyond it he could see nothing, nothing but the blackness of his own soul, mocking him.

((()))

Hermione left her latest amusement dead on the floor, cracking his skull as she stepped on him. She smirked at the horror-stricken face, frozen into the terror of his last moments. "Thanks babes," she told the dead body, "I needed that."

Now, where was Draco when she needed him? She could have done with the skilled blonde's ploys to keep her from boredom. Stalking out of the Ravenclaw common room, aware of but not caring that her shirt was undone, she decided to look for Loopy. Wasn't anything they'd probably not seen before, anyway.

She still hadn't quite forgiven Loopy for not telling her. There was a curious gap in her memory; she guessed Loopy must have wiped her memory or something. All she could remember was black eyes, but that was hardly something to go on.

"Point me," she murmured, picking up her wand.

The magic tugged her towards the left. She followed it.

To her confusion, she was led to a blank wall.

"You have to walk up and down three times." A voice said softly.

She whipped around, wand held out. The pale figure stepped out of the shadows, holding his bare hands out, palms up. His black eyes glittered. "Hello, Miss Granger."

"Oh..." she murmured. "It's only you."

"Only me?" He sounded amused. "What is it with you and assumptions?"

"Come on," she rolled her eyes, "We both know you're too much of a chicken to hurt me."

"Hardly," he scoffed. "It only violates my oath."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't give a crap about your oath. And you didn't hurt me, you just shoved me here."

"True..." he acknowledged.

"I'll see you on the other side," she smirked. "Don't think you've got off the, 'I don't think you're dangerous' speech yet."

"I wait in terror," the vampire laughed.

((()))

Harry woke with a start.

The shadow Other had woken him, his black eyes fierce. _"Wake! They're coming!"_

"Who?" Harry asked it, confused.

"_Your little friends!" _He snapped.

"My little- they're back?" Harry questioned urgently, leaping out of bed. He began throwing on his robes at the Other's thin-lipped nod.

Grabbing his Invisibility Cloak, he pulled it over himself and hurried out of the silent common room, well used to the sight of a shadowy and dark room by now. The Fat Lady called out a challenge when he sneaked out, but he ignored her and walked as fast as he could down the halls, practically running.

"The bodies?" he hissed in a quiet whisper.

The Other did not answer, but slunk alongside him, a dark shadow made incorporeal flesh.

Harry paused, considering. _The Room first, _he thought. _If they're not there, I can always go back. _

It only occurred to him as he was skidding to a fast halt and thanking whatever wizarding god loved him that Filch hadn't been on the prowl that they might have vanished by the time he gotten back with the bodies.

He hissed at himself in anger, but entered the Room anyway.

To his vast relief, he could see two coffins pulled out by the altar.

Hurrying over them, he hauled the lids off the sarcophagi and peered down at the cold, lax faces of the two girls.

Luna's skin was kissed with dusky blue, and her eyelids had gone a soft purple. Her blonde hair was glittering like spun gold. He puzzled over her almost fairy-like appearance, but then his eyes were drawn to Hermione.

He remembered all too well how she had looked when Petrified in their second year. It was freakishly similar.

He glanced back up at the mirror- and jumped.

There was a thing in the mirror, looking back at him. His own warped reflection was next to him, no longer reflected in the mirror. No, this was different.

It was female, obviously so, with rippling golden blond hair and seductive, glittering black eyes. Long claws flexed speculatively and a thin, scarlet tongue darted out to wet her lips. She wore a messily half-done up shirt and a short skirt. With a coquettish wink, she leaned forward and breathed on the glass, and wrote,

_yxes yeH. -_Hey, sexy.

"Hello to you too," Harry grinned. "Luna, right?"

She ran her tongue teasingly over her dagger-sharp fangs, making him gulp with nervousness. Her teeth were so...sharp.

_nioL ym ,esruoc fO.- _Of course, my Lion.

"Any idea where Hermione is?"

She pouted. _ ?denrecnon os yhW -_Why so concerned?

"She's my best friend...?"

Rolling her eyes dramatically, the not-Luna wrote, Gnirob _os s'hes ,yenoh tub ,hO -_Oh, but honey, she's so _boring._

"And you're corrupted?" Harry asked pleasantly.

Fluttering her eyelashes, not-Luna replied, _ yxes ,esruoc fO. –_Of course, sexy.

"Please stop calling me that," Harry said uncomfortably.

Before Luna could reply, however, there came more movement in the mirror and not-Hermione's ghastly beautiful face appeared next to not-Luna's.

He picked up Hermione's body and managed to lug it across the floor and position it next to the mirror. Not-Hermione's black eyes glittered at him as she reached out, and pressed her hand against her body's where it rested on the glass.

There was an inhuman shriek- and iron clang- a black cloak- Luna's scream-

And then nothing but shards of pain driving into his heart.

**Please- someone shoot me. This story has gotten steadily worse and worse. **


	13. Are You Secretly A Dementor?

**Magical ponies flying through the sky...**

**Ron- What? (scared) What have you done to the thestrals! They don't deserve it!**

**Me- (manic cackle) Magical ponies of DEATH flying through the BLACK sky...**

**Sirius- What is your obsession with me and my crazy supremist relatives, excusing Andromeda?**

**Me- (shrugs) I don't know. I just love Black.**

**Sirius- (creeped out) Which one?**

**Me- Bella, mostly, as she killed you and everyone, but you're okay, too. **

**((frightened looks))**

**Ron- And she's in charge of this plot?**

**Me- What plot?**

Soft warmth was the first thing Harry registered. The second was the comfort of the mattress beneath him, and the clean, starchy smell of freshly-washed sheets. He opened his eyes, and recognised the sculpted ceiling above him almost instantly.

He was in the Hospital Wing.

He seemed to spend most of his time here this year, Harry thought ruefully. He tested his body for any aches and pains, but couldn't find any. Cautiously, he sat up.

Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen. Not for the first time, Harry wondered where she went when not tending to the patients in the Wing. And he was not alone.

He noticed the lumps of other people sleeping in their beds before he recognised them. A heady rush of joy and relief burst in his heart as he observed their familiar faces.

Hermione, her long curly locks no longer frozen with ice tumbling around her warm-toned skin, the slightest hint of a blush in her smooth face, her eyes closed and her form not quite still enough to be the dead, corpse-like sleep she had been bound in before. The change was so radical Harry nearly laughed.

Luna was in the other bed beside Harry, the covers pulled up to her chin, her angelic face relaxed with sleep, a tiny fairy nestled in the depression formed by her collarbone. She seemed fine.

Suddenly, he registered the disappearance of the thin, pale Other that had haunted him with his own distorted face. Its absence made him unexpectedly worried. What could it do without him to watch it?

Before his thoughts could turn down a decidedly more dark path, a familiar mediwitch bustled up to him, a bright smile on her cheery, plump features. "You're awake!"

"Are they okay?" Harry asked.

Madam Pomfrey beamed at him. "Perfectly fine, my dear- now drink this."

Harry sighed, but obligingly swallowed the bitter tasting potion. "What is that, anyway?"

"A blood-restoring potion, just in case." She avoided his questioning stare. "This one, please." She handed another one to him, this one a light-looking one he recognised. He drank it down quickly, wincing at the taste.

_A blood-restoring potion? _He wondered. _Why would I need one of them? What did she mean by 'just in case'? _His curiosity sparked, he watched Madam Pomfrey carefully, but he could discern nothing from her.

"When can I go?" he asked. He was eager to see Ron again. Sheepishly, he remembered how distantly he had treated Ron over the last few weeks. They seemed nightmarish, sharp and distorted all at the same time. He could remember strange little things- a sharp, constant, throbbing pain in his chest, as if his heart had been blown in. It worried him. The Other seemed the core of this shroud, it was at the heart of every twisted reflection.

To his relief, he could feel nothing of the near dementia that had haunted him. It as if it had disappeared- along with his Other.

He was just pondering the connection between the two, and the strange Mirror that somehow Luna and Hermione had been trapped in when Madam Pomfrey interrupted his train of thought with, "Of course, dearie." She gave him a bright smile that seemed false.

Suspiciously, he peered at her. Madam Pomfrey had never seemed particularly untrustworthy before.

She tended to Hermione and Luna, casting quick diagnostic spells on them to check their health. "They'll wake up in a few hours," she said reassuringly to him, "And you need to go back. Your friend Mr Weasley apparently saved some homework for you, seeing as classes have finished."

With a jolt, Harry realised it was Monday. He couldn't really remember what day it had been before. The memory loss bothered him more than he had thought. The Other had clearly cast some sort of dark spell on him.

He wondered why Madam Pomfrey was trying to get him out of the Hospital Wing. His question was answered as the large doors swung open and Snape stalked in, carrying a small basket which probably contained potions.

"Madam Pomfrey, the potions you requested," Snape said curtly, glaring at Harry, who was awkwardly stood next to the bed.

"Ah, thank you, Severus," Madam Pomfrey said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable.

Harry glanced between the two of them, wondering what was going on. They were clearly waiting for him to leave.

Snape's cold black eyes pierced Harry right to the bone, and he shivered. Whatever it was, it was clearly something strange.

He excused himself and wandered out of the Wing as if he intended to go back to Gryffindor Tower. The moment the doors shut behind him, Harry groped in the pocket of his robe.

Yes, it was still there. The Invisibility Cloak. He threw it over himself and managed to slip through the half-open door before it closed. Not for the first time he wished he could pass through walls.

Madam Pomfrey had set the basket down on Harry's bed, and was quickly checking through them. Snape, to Harry's anger, was running careful spells on Luna.

"Is she alright?" Madam Pomfrey asked finally, explosively, as if she had been waiting to ask this question for a long time.

The corner of Snape's mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. "Poppy," he said dryly, "Miss Lovegood is hardly the average student. Her physical health, is however, completely unaffected."

"I gave Harry a blood-replenishing potion," Madam Pomfrey's voice was hard, and she stared at Snape with a piercing gaze.

The Potions Master sighed.

"Severus..." Madam Pomfrey began. "...Don't you think...it might be, that perhaps..."

"What?" Snape asked sharply.

"Well," the mediwitch seemed to have lost her brightness. "...You attacked two students."

Harry's eyes widened and he barely restrained a gasp. He _attacked _two _students?_

Snape snorted dryly, seeming to disregard the matter. "I am too important to Dumbledore for him to attempt to be rid of me," he snarled, "However much I sometimes wish I wake with a stake in my heart."

Harry blinked in utter shock, stumped. _What? A stake in his heart?_

"But...they could have _died," _Madam Pomfrey snapped, gesturing at Hermione and Luna. "You've already...poor Miss Lovegood, you know what you did to her!"

"I _did _nothing," Snape drawled, "She _chose _to follow what I said."

"You manipulated her!"

"Hardly," Snape replied. "She wanted to save her friend- I provided her with the means of doing so."  
"You corrupted her soul!"

"At least she has one. It worked, did it not?" He was blank-faced, but Harry could see a strange something in his eyes, and his voice sounded heavy and softer than usual.

"You sound like you don't even care!" Madam Pomfrey's eyes were bright and fierce, and she was almost spitting with rage. Harry had never seen the calm, motherly witch like it before. In contrast, Snape seemed entirely unperturbed. "How big a step until you choose to _really _attack? Before you end one of their lives forever? Have you forgotten the oath you swore when you accepted your post in this school! "  
Abruptly, the room chilled. One look at Snape's face froze Harry's insides and made him want to die quietly or hide under a very, very, thick rock.

"Never," he stated, dangerously soft.

Madam Pomfrey stepped closer, her eyes practically flashing with rage. Harry was startlingly reminded of Mrs Weasley during one of her rants. "Perhaps you forgot about when we found you. Don't you remember what you did? You-"

"Don't," Snape had closed his eyes and turned away, and Harry was shocked at how vulnerable he looked. The expression didn't seem right on the cruel, sarcastic Potions Master.

"No!" Madam Pomfrey snarled. The roles looked reversed, and Harry was now dearly wishing he had left Snape and Pomfrey to their clearly private conversation, but they'd both be suspicious if the door randomly opened.

All the same, he couldn't help but wonder- what had Snape done that was so awful? Why was Madam Pomfrey so suspicious and angry with him?

_You corrupted her soul! _The mediwitch's words vibrated in his head, and he felt his insides chill.

"Well, maybe you should remember what you are, and what you've done!"

He looked shaken, almost pitiful, and Harry was shocked by a sharp pang of sympathy and pity for the Potions Master. The teacher seemed to crumple in on himself, until he was nothing more than a thin, sallow face held up by black robes and obsidian eyes that were sad and somber with such a dark, heartbroken, tormented pain that Harry flinched away and tears came to his green eyes.

"I can never forget," Snape whispered.

Madam Pomfrey finally seemed to realise she'd gone too far. "Oh Severus- I didn't mean-"

"Yes you did," he was barely speaking in a murmur, but Madam Pomfrey heard him clearly, and Harry was reminded eerily of his first Potions lesson. How different he was now.

"I know- that you, well, aren't..." Madam Pomfrey groped for words, now looking incredibly uncomfortable and more than a little nervous. This too surprised Harry, Madam Pomfrey was a trained mediwitch, and always seemed to be able to say the right things.

"I can never forget," Snape repeated, and raised his dark eyes to Harry's, piercing him straight to his soul, as if he could see straight through the Invisibility Cloak.

A strange shudder went through Harry then, as he locked gazes with him. He had such black eyes, cold and empty, like tunnels, he was falling into them, as if he was tumbling into a cold, dark abyss. They were full of such despair and pain Harry thought that if he ever saw the eyes of a Dementor, this was how they would look. Desperate for the happiness he would never have, a cold and unnatural presence, sunk deep in the frozen tomb of his depression and pain, doomed forever to a world of endless night haunting the dark shadows for a glimpse of something he could never see.

They were so aching and sad Harry wished he could do something, anything, to alleviate the sadness. What had happened to break him like this?

In a soft breath, Snape murmured, "Potter," and closed his eyes.

**Short, I know. Saying how awful this story is becomes redundant now. Nonetheless I continue- there'll be a new update soon!**

**Snape- I'm so OOC you may as well create another character and stick my name on it. I protest. Since when have I used Potter and Pomfrey as my personal therapists?**

**Me- Methinks the git doth protest too much.**

**Ron- Which git? Draco, Lucius, Snape, Borgin, Voldemort- there's loads of gits.**

**Hermione- True. But the therapist thing may be something we can work on. God knows you need it, Snape.**

**Snape- You don't even know me!**

**Hermione- Clearly, you misunderstood. I'm a know-it-all, so clearly I must be omniscient. (creepily) I know **_**everything, **_**'Sev'.**

**Snape- (frightened) No one has called me that in thirteen, or fourteen, or ten- I can't remember- years, and you won't start! (hexes her)**

**((they fight furiously))**

**Harry- You were talking about OOC?**


End file.
